The Diary of Doctor LEA
by Myshu
Summary: It was the summer of 1003, and it was raining. Now complete!
1. Conditions

A/N: Take three.

I've been trying to write this story on-and-off for nearly a decade: first in 2000, then in 2004, and now it's 2009. My writing style has changed a lot since then. I've (hopefully) learned from my mistakes and am ready to finish this part of my Phoenix Chronicles once and for all--because it just wouldn't make sense without a real beginning, y'know?

For those who remember "Awakening the Hero" (thanks to Xyn, slightlyevolved, NeoKefka, and anyone who left reviews) this will be quite different, but still the same story at heart. For those new to my hijinks, welcome and enjoy! I want this to be easy for anyone to pick up, so questions, tips and crits are welcome (and if anyone just wants to encourage me or wish me luck, that'll be greatly appreciated, too. I'll need all the help I can get.)

This is where it all began--this is Lucca's part of the Phoenix's story...

* * *

**1. Conditions**

When I was a little girl, something terrible happened--something that really hit my family hard.

At the time I blamed myself for not being able to stop it, and out of the shock and guilt I withdrew from the world and stopped talking to anyone, even my parents. A doctor tried to tell them I had autism, though my mom and dad refused to believe it. I was just starting grade school, too, which was the perfect time to develop a social disorder, as you can guess. The other kids tormented me or ignored me altogether, which only fueled my introversion.

During this time I started reading a lot of books, anything to escape from reality. I still love books and science for this reason, even if my situation has changed. I would read anything, fiction or not--pirate stories, Mystic War manuscripts, ancient poetry, cookbooks, schematics--even the dictionary. I was a glutton for the written word, and I turned my whole house upside-down looking for reading material. That's when I found a strange, dusty old book in our attic. I had never seen anything like it; it was full of arcane illustrations, and written in a language utterly alien to me. Headstrong little genius that I was, I was determined not only to decipher its text, but to create a hand-written translation of the entire book. It wasn't pretty, but I did it, and as far as I know that book still has my handiwork inserted between each page.

I can't recall much about its contents anymore. Like most childhood memories, it's fuzzy around the edges, and meddling with my own past probably didn't help things. The book is no longer in my possession, besides. Eventually I met Crono, found my voice again and moved on with my life, and the book was returned to obscurity in my house's attic.

Over the years, I forgot what that book was about--or that it even existed--but I'll never forget the day I found it again...

---

It was the summer of 1003, and it was raining.

I had stayed up all night in my room sketching down an idea for a new invention--well, not new, exactly. Perhaps it was ironic that I was dreaming up modifications to my Telepod, the very device that had ripped open a hole in the fabric of the fourth dimension and sent us on our time-traveling adventures in the first place.

It had been three years since my friends and I defeated Lavos and restored peace to the time-stream, and we had all gone back to our normal lives. Marle went back to being the amiable (if rebellious) Princess Nadia, although she was more supportive of her father's work than she had been before she ran away. Crono continued to stay at home and help support his mom, doing odd jobs around town. He and Marle visited each other all the time, and it was obvious that they were smitten, although their relationship didn't move too fast--I figure that was more Crono's doing than Marle's. All the same, people around the castle considered them an "item" and had big expectations.

I went back home too, of course, and invested my time helping my dad with his contract work. I could only imagine how my other friends were faring--the gates had vanished and the Epoch was history, so-to-speak. With Lavos out of the picture, I liked to imagine a bright past, present and future for them all. I was happily oblivious to the cogs of fate, even as they started turning against us once again.

'Fate' is a funny word. I don't like using it. It implies a lack of control over one's own life, something every man (and woman!) covets almost more than life itself. As a scientist, I'm not allowed to believe in fate. It's not academic--it can't be put through a formula and tested, therefore it can't exist.

But as a dreamer, sometimes I wonder... because it couldn't have been mere coincidence that made me wake up that morning, a piece of paper still stuck to my face from where I fell asleep at my desk, turn around and find the Magus standing in plain sight in my upstairs bedroom.

Magus was always an... unreliable comrade, at best. He only helped me and my friends as long as we were fighting Lavos--as long as we had a common goal. He definitely wasn't our friend, and we never asked him to be. As soon as our mission was accomplished, he took off without another word. Marle, with her heart of gold, liked to believe that Magus--the scourge of the Middle Ages and an all-around jerk in every other time era--was reformed by our wonderful influence, but I was never that naive. I knew the atrocities he was guilty of, and comrade-in-arms or not I knew his loyalty to us wouldn't last any longer than we were useful. He would always be a dangerous wizard and a wild card.

That's why, when I saw him standing not three feet behind me, I freaked out a little. The man had appeared as if by magic (a likely explanation), panning his typical scowl around my cluttered room as if I weren't even there. He was tall, huge--bigger and more imposing than I remembered--all pale muscle, dark blue cloak and war-beaten leather armor. And he was positively soaked, dripping rainwater all over my floor and looking like a pissed-off cat in a storm.

I did the first reasonable thing I could think of: I screamed, scrambled out of my chair and picked up the nearest sharp, pointy object: a pencil. I don't know what I was thinking--maybe if I stabbed him hard enough with the thing he'd get graphite poisoning and _become really annoyed_. He didn't even look my way until my mother called from downstairs, obviously concerned, "Lucca, was that you? Is something the matter?"

Magus suggested with a tip of his menacingly pointy eyebrows that I do something. "Uh... no!" I shouted back down the stairs. "It was just... a spider!"

Mom sounded satisfied with that (she knew I was arachnophobic), so I got straight to business: asking Magus what the hell he was doing in my room, in my house, and in my _time era_. The man started to rifle through my things without a word to explain himself, apparently questing for something, and I practically had to shout in his ear before he stopped and addressed me.

"Where is it?" His voice was like molasses, thick and uncompromising in a way that sounded as if he were choking on his own rotten disposition.

"Where is _what_?" I rasped, fighting not to raise my voice and growing bold with sheer annoyance.

He kicked over a shoebox of spare parts--crushing a breaker bulb I _was_ planning on using for my Telepod upgrade--and elaborated, "That key thing."

I straightened my glasses and glowered right back at him. "Nice terminology, there. That could only be _anything_. I'm going to assume by the fact that you're even standing here in front of me--which _should_ be impossible without a gate--that you're talking about my Gate Key."

"You know what they say about assuming," he said flatly, and went back to rummaging. He toppled a stack of books and wiped a picture frame off a shelf.

If he was trying to be funny, his wit wasn't appreciated. "Would you quit throwing my stuff around??" I snapped. "You're not going to find it here anyway."

That, at last, caught his attention. "Well then? Where is it?"

I was shocked, scared, aggravated and about to say something I probably would have regretted (such as "Up your ass, right where my foot's going to be next if you don't get out of my room") but I thought better of it. I suddenly realized I had something that Magus wanted and couldn't find--and that was leverage.

I crossed my arms, leaned against the back of my chair and played it cool. "I don't think I'm going to tell you."

He stared at me with a squished gape, as if he were hard of seeing insolence. "What."

"You heard me. I don't see one good reason why I should tell you anything, much less where I keep my Gate Key. I don't even know what you intend to do with it. How do I know I'll ever see it--much less you--again? Forget it."

In half a stride he was towering over me, even more venomous up close. I could count the frayed strands of his hair, and smell lightning and mud on his clothes. "I'm not asking. If you don't tell me where you're hiding it, I'll find it myself--and you won't like my methods."

It was like being stared down by the Devil himself--his irises were bloody red and everything--but I wasn't about to let him see me shaking in my boots. I held myself tight, burying my clammy hands in the folds of my nightshirt. "If you'll try to be reasonable, we can both get what we want without you tearing my damn room apart."

"Who says I'll stop with your room? I'll destroy this entire house if I have to. I want that key."

"Ha!" I cracked. I must have sounded verifiably insane, which at that point, wasn't far off the mark. The line between bravery and madness is thin, indeed. "And you think your luck'll be any better that way? What're you gonna do? K--"

"Kill you," he finished my sentence. He sounded lethally serious.

I'd lost my grip on fear--now I was angrier at his gall than anything. "Oh really? And then what? Good luck finding the key after that! I'm sure as hell not going to tell you where to look if I'm _dead_. Maybe you'd better think again before you get all pissy and start throwing your magic or whatever around here."

"Lucca? Who are you talking to?" downstairs called again. I bit my lip; I let my voice rise too high again. Magus graciously held his thought until I tossed back, "Um... Alfador!"

I didn't realize how absurd--ironic, even--that reply was until Magus nailed me with a quirky, prying look. "My hamster," I explained, as embarrassing as it was. I glanced to the cage on my desk, where the poor little guy was stock-still, perhaps just as horrified by our visitor as I was.

"Well don't talk to your pets so much. It's strange," Mom chided, and her tone dropped as she went back to her business downstairs. I rolled my eyes; she had no idea.

When Magus wouldn't quit staring at me like I'd just plagiarized his life's work for naming a hamster after his dumb cat, I got defensive. "Yeah, I named him Alfador. I thought it was a good name. You wanna fight about it?"

Magus huffed and let it go, getting back to the matter at hand. "Perhaps..." He flicked his nose down the stairwell with a wicked suggestion. "You won't treat my demand so frivolously with someone else's life at stake."

I froze. If that man hurt my parents, or worse... I nearly panicked and broke down, right there. Petty as it was, however, I didn't want to lose this battle of wits--not to the damn Magus, the epitome of 'kill first, ask questions later.' I couldn't just meet his demands and let him walk away without ever knowing what he was doing or how he got here. I couldn't be left in the dark, after everything I'd seen and done with the time gates. Besides, what if he went and did something completely irresponsible with the Gate Key and ruined the fragile balance of time and space? It was my responsibility to make sure that key stayed out of the wrong hands, and few hands were as wrong as Magus's.

When I didn't meet his eyes, he must have thought he got me. But then I gathered up all my courage with a deep breath and said, "Well then. Have it your way. Kill us all if you want. I haven't changed my mind."

"You feign to negotiate with me? Do you know who you're dealing with, little girl?"

"Little girl??" I fired back. He was meaner, but I was crazier. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with; I remember who you are. I also know it's going to be pretty damn hard to find that key without my help." Before the man could churn out a retort, I slipped out of range of his death-glare and started to casually rearrange some books on a shelf. "You know, Magus, you've got to learn to deal with people. Not everybody's going to just bow down and let you do what you want all the time--that's why I've got conditions. If you play fair and agree to them, I'll let you use the key."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head tick to the side--he was considering it. "And these... 'conditions' are going to stop me from killing you and burning this house to the ground once I get what I came for?" Or maybe he was just amused.

I whirled to him, hands on my hips--I must have looked like my mother, for a second there. She would say I was playing with fire. Too bad that's what I do best. "Have you ever been a civilized human being, like, ever? Or have you just killed and blown up everyone and everything in your way?"

Whether or not I struck a chord, he didn't answer.

"Do you want the Gate Key or not?" I pressed him.

He then did the scariest thing yet--he _smirked_, looking creepily like a cat toying with a mouse. "What are your conditions?"

"Ah yes, that's the spirit," I chimed, pretending to clean my room some more. "The first condition is that you let me come with you."

"What."

"That's right, I want to come along. I think I have a right to know what's going on around here."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is none of your concern."

I deployed my favorite weapon: sarcasm. "Oh, that's right, it must not be. That's why you've come through a gate to _my_ time, showed up in _my_ house and demanded that _I_ give you the Gate Key _I_ created. If this doesn't fall under the category of 'my business,' I don't know what does."

"It'll be dangerous."

"And your point is...? You say that as if I'm some lightweight. If you'll care to remember, I was right there next to you when we took down Lavos. I think I can handle a little so-called 'danger'." I smartly turned away and began sorting the papers I was working on the past night, before Magus caught me grinning. I was starting to feel pretty pleased with myself, but I didn't want to sound too obvious about it. "Although your attempt to talk me out of this is commendable."

I knew I was getting under his skin when he growled, "This is not a game. I don't have time to baby-sit some brat."

"That's funny, you didn't seem to mind putting up with some brats the last time. Don't think of it as 'babysitting.' Think of it as..." I rolled a wrist, playing through the best phrase in my head. "Taking on a traveling companion."

He stood as stiff as a post, not budging for the world. "I work alone. I don't want or need company."

I turned my back, feigning indifference. "That's too bad... I guess you might as well kill me and be on your way, then."

"You've got some nerve," he darkly spoke, thirsty for a violent resolution. I knew he could--and would--make it happen, but the question was, how far could I push him? "You must not value your life very much. Who says I won't do just that?"

"Oh... just a hunch," I quibbled.

"For a so-called 'scientist' you're not being very reasonable."

Sometimes I'm more of a gambler than a scientist--it's all about statistics and probability, either way. He would _probably_ kill me, but there's still the _possibility_ of survival... as long as he didn't call my bluff. I winked and wagged a finger at him. "Ah-hah, you think? Perhaps there's a method to my madness. So, what do you say?"

Outside, lightning flickered closer, diverting our attention for just a second. Magus looked right past me and out the window, as if reading the storm clouds for some divine input--hell, maybe even a flash of conscience, though I knew better than to expect a miracle like that. "...Fine," he answered, curiously distant. "Come if you wish. It's your funeral."

I couldn't believe my bid paid off. I covered a sigh of relief with a loud cough. Magus thankfully moved on without comment. "What's the other condition?"

Now that the deal felt secure, I started to get serious, taking my travel satchel out of a drawer and packing it with the essentials: a pen and pad of paper, a spare set of clothes, my air gun and a screwdriver (hey, a screwdriver _always_ comes in handy somewhere.) I wished I had a more powerful weapon on hand, but I had disassembled my Wonder Shot for parts and out of a spirit of peace that was starting to look very foolish, in hindsight. "Well, the second ties in with the first. Since we're going to be traveling together, the key might as well stay in my custody--at all times. I don't want anyone else handling it. Call me paranoid if you want."

He snorted. "Forget it. You're pushing it. I don't need some kid laying down rules for me. It'd take a fool--"

"Hey," I cut him off, not chancing him any more room to speak, "You're free to kill me and take it from my cold dead fingers anytime you want, but that's my condition, so agree to it now or _get bent_."

Magus paused, drilling me with a mixed look. At a glance I could tell he was ruffled--vexed, even--but at the same time utterly confounded by my rebuff. He had to be thinking I was either suicidal or absolutely out of my mind, which was luckily the reaction I was aiming for. If he thought I was truly insane--and hell, I would never rule that out--then he'd never be able to predict my next move, and I needed every advantage against this man I could get.

"Fine," he relented, not wishing to reason with madness, after all. "But I'm still in charge. We're going where and _when_ I want to go. Got that?" he insisted, stressing the double entendre time travel introduced.

I shrugged in turn. "Fine, you're the boss. As long as you agree."

His expression was smoldering, but I seemed safe--for the time being, at least. I picked up a footstool in the corner and stepped around his raised hackles, carrying it out to the indoor balcony. I glanced over the rail to make sure neither of my parents were snooping around the living room, set the stool down, stood up on it and reached for the hatch to the attic. I propped the thing open and then hoisted myself up on my elbows (normally I'd use a ladder, but I didn't want to attract attention from the parentals by going downstairs to fetch it.)

"Well? Com'on," I huffed when I looked down and saw Magus staring blankly back at me. "It's up here."

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I started a bit when the magician simply levitated straight up through the hatch, not even stirring the wind. He landed in a soundless crouch next to me, like an owl swooping onto a perch, and I repressed the shiver that ran down my spine. I hated having him that close, but our attic didn't exactly have a lot of headroom.

A murky little window at the opposite end gave all the light I needed, so I went straight for the storage boxes and began digging around. Magus generally lurked nearby, poking around suitcases and dusty corners like a nosy bastard, but as long as he wasn't breathing down my neck I honestly didn't mind.

At one point I glimpsed a crack of preternatural sunlight, and when I looked around I caught him peeking into the chest where we kept the Sun Stone. He must have wondered why it was there. It was the only magical relic I elected to retain once our adventures were over. The others were either returned to their respective time eras or locked up in Guardia Castle's vault, as was reasonable, but I kept the Sun Stone more at my dad's inclination than anyone else's. The old man got a kick out of helping me modify its energy to forge the Wonder Shot, and we had even planned to study it and build a conductor that would emulate its sunlight-conversion properties. Regrettably, once we put it in storage, the Sun Stone went out of sight and out of mind...

Before I could explain any of that, something with eight legs skittered over my hand, and I jumped back with a shriek. I might have (amazingly) managed to startle Magus, because the chest he was inspecting abruptly snapped shut while I shook all over and blathered, "Oh geez! Spider, spider! Eek!"

I watched the spider scurry right up to him (evil attracts evil, I suppose) and he squished it under his toe without as much as a grimace. Magus stared dully at my little fit, and if I were any less spooked I would have felt like a ripe idiot.

"I _hate_ spiders," I grumbled, compelled to justify myself. He didn't respond, much less care, so I swallowed my shame and went back to searching, while he went back to browsing.

While shuffling boxes I caught him again, this time with a book. The gold stamp on the tanned cover winked at me across the gloomy attic, though I was more intrigued by Magus's hypnotized expression as he sifted through the pages. "Impossible..." he breathed.

"What?" I pried.

He pursed his lips into an inscrutable frown and shut the book. "...Nothing."

"If you say so..." I shrugged off his odd look and the pang of familiarity. The cloud of dust I turned up made me sneeze thrice, but at the bottom of the stack I finally found what I was looking for--symmetrically imperfect, scuffed and broken-in, but never broken. When I picked it up, it was like shaking hands with an old friend.

"Aha!" I held up the Gate Key with a flourish, admiring the warping colors of its draw-stones in the dim light. "Here we have it, sir."

Magus leaned towards it hungrily, but I quickly stuffed it into my bag before he got a better idea. His frown turned sour, but his hands kept to himself.

"All right!" I clapped eagerly. "Now just let me get ready, and we can go and pick up my third condition."

If I were _really_ crazy, or suicidal, or both, I would have laughed outright at the stern flare of his eyes; it was a look that could have made rocks burst into flame. Instead I offered a grin that was hopefully more mollifying than infuriating.

"Last one, I swear."


	2. The New Gate

**2. The New Gate**

I asked Magus to magic-teleport his butt out of my house while I changed clothes and finished packing (couldn't go gallivanting across the ages in my nightshirt, after all.) I couldn't be certain how long I would be out, so I told my parents I was going to stay at Crono's house for a while. They always explicitly trusted Crono, and never denied us time together. When we were little kids, we stayed at each other's houses all the time (although between his wooden sword and my toy inventions, we always managed to inflict property damage. I'm surprised we weren't banned from playing together ages ago.)

It wasn't a total lie, anyway; our next stop was Crono's house.

By the time I caught up with Magus outside, I realized the one thing I hadn't prepared for was the obvious: it was pouring rain. I shrugged and walked on through it--if Magus didn't mind getting a little wet, neither did I. It wasn't like the time Marle, Crono and I were hiking up the Denadoro Mountains and the princess's flimsy (and very revealing) white top got soaked to the skin by the waterfalls. Crono was so transfixed by the free show, he nearly walked off a cliff. Would've served him right.

On the way I tried to glean as much from Magus as I could about his situation, but after five or six monosyllabic grunts I gave up. The man was as conversational as an ogre.

It was late morning by the time we walked into town. I skipped across the stepping-stones on Crono's overgrown lawn and knocked on his front door. I couldn't see any lights on inside, and couldn't hear much better for the rain. I knocked again, and waited another minute... until nothing answered.

I banged a fist on the door, knocking loose a few more chips of ugly green paint. "Crono! You lazy oaf, answer the door!"

Magus edged closer, looming behind me with an aura of impatience. "Is something the matter?"

"Dang it! I know he's home." I didn't really know if Crono was home. He could have gone out grocery shopping with his mom, or stayed over at the castle with Marle again, or taken a long walk off Truce Pier for all I knew. But Magus didn't need to know that. "Can't you just _magic teleport_ us inside?"

The wizard snorted, haughty this time. "I can't be bothered to remember what his stupid house looks like." That's right, I remembered; teleportation requires an exact mental image of the destination. I couldn't have expected even Magus to recall a house he barely visited three years ago, except...

I whirled to him. "Hey! You apparently remembered what _my_ stupid house looks like!"

"No one could forget how stupid your house looks."

I screwed up my lip, trying to look insulted, but judging by his smirk he only got satisfaction out of it. "Well, you could still help!"

"I could," he said neutrally.

We stewed in the rain for another ten seconds while I stared at him expectantly. Eventually his point sank in. "But you won't."

"No."

I huffed. What a stuck-up bastard. "Fine. I'll handle this!" Taking matters into my own hands, I ran around to the backside of the house, where I could see the second-story window of Crono's room. I looked over the spread of weeds, clay and pebbles at my feet, fished out a tiny rock and lobbed it right at the glass. I was trying to make a racket, not break the thing; I figured the pebble was small enough to bounce off.

What I didn't figure was that someone would open the window just as the fifth pebble left my hand. It sailed right through--and into Crono's eye. I watched him fall back into his room with a blind flail, though I was almost too relieved to see he was home to feel contrite. "Ack! Sorry!"

In a minute he reappeared at his window, rubbing his brow with one hand while clenching the offending rock in the other. He narrowed a one-eyed glare at me and raised his arm threateningly, and I cringed and danced in circles, vying not to get hit. "I said I was sorry!! Don't--"

He threw the rock as hard as he could, skimming my ankle and striking a puddle--luckily his depth perception was impaired. I bounced away from the splash and waved back. "Oh com'on, Crono, that's what you get for not answering the door! Are you gonna let me in or what?"

He blinked--winced, rather--at me, puzzled, as if he hadn't heard the door in the first place. I wouldn't doubt it; the guy could sleep through earthquakes. Then he rolled his eyes and turned back inside. _Fine, I guess._

Magus and I reconvened on the front porch, waiting to be let in. At last the lock clicked, the door creaked open, and we stepped out of the rain. It was dreary inside, with all the lights out and a grey sky seeping through the curtains. Crono plodded straight to the kitchen--shirtless, shoeless and fresh out of bed, I noticed--flicked on the lamp over the sink and began rummaging for a bowl of cereal like a sloth with a hangover.

"So..." I stoked a conversation. "Where's your mom?"

Crono paused and scratched his head, mulling it over. He then threw open the refrigerator, absorbed its lack of contents, shut it and snapped his thumb over his shoulder. _Went to get groceries._

There was a recent (if fallacious) study from a school in Porre that has attached itself to the public mindset like a bad urban legend, and it claims that over seventy percent of all human communication is nonverbal. Although the subject of the study itself is so vast and ambiguous as to make any attempt to bring it into the context of percentages utterly meaningless, if we assumed that to be true, I'd have to say for Crono it would be more like ninety-nine percent.

To put it mildly, has a very... subtle method of communication. Not to say he's shy; Crono's never been guilty of that. I'd almost say he's honestly too lazy to use his own vocal cords. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing--if "strong, silent type" was the image he liked to project, that was fine by me--it just made it easy for other people to misread his little vocabulary of hand gestures and eye-rolls. I was a master, of course, through years of experience, and sometimes that made me the room's translator. I could pick up things Crono was trying to say that not even his own mother could figure out (then again, his mother is kind of... no comment.)

Not to say he never talked, either; it's just, when he did...

One of the cats, Cyrus, rushed down the stairs at the sound of its master opening a cereal box and pouring a bowl, though it immediately forgot about getting fed once it noticed Magus. The cat parked right on his toes and murmured curiously, yet all Magus did was stare down his nose at it with a bland mix of annoyance and apprehension. I could have laughed at the image: the great wizard Magus, at odds with a common housecat. I looked back at Crono, yet he wouldn't turn around, much less notice anything past his breakfast.

Admittedly, I started to stare... My eyes caught the three dragging scars across his bare back, where a heckran--a breed of huge, vicious water dragon--once nearly shredded him to death. As it turned out, the heckran's worst attack wasn't with its claws, but with its venom: a neurotoxin capable of paralyzing a man and killing lesser creatures. It took a while to set in, but once it did, Crono was down the rest of the day.

I was waiting for him to acknowledge the sodding, pasty, grouchy behemoth I'd dragged in with me, but sometimes, I swear, Crono was Master of the Oblivious. He carried his bowl of dry cereal back to the refrigerator, re-opened the door and stared dumbly into its void for a almost a minute before I snipped, "Yeah, there's no milk, genius. You just looked in there."

Not to be daunted, Crono reached for the next available liquid: an already opened can of Muff Beer. (Crono didn't even drink beer, and neither did his mom, as far as I knew--which made me wonder all kinds of crazy things about the both of them.) I watched with an appropriately horrified expression as he sat down at the table, poured the stale brew into his corn flakes and shoveled it down.

"That's disgusting!"

He lifted one drowsy eyebrow and shook the can lightly in my direction. _Want some?_

I threw up my hands. "No! Are you crazy, or did you lose all your taste buds in a freak accident?? You can't put beer on cereal!"

Crono chewed thoughtfully over his bowl and then twirled his spoon like a magic wand. _You can now._

From the shadow of the staircase, Magus cleared his throat. "I don't have all day, children."

Amusingly enough, Crono reacted just the same way I did (minus the screaming.) He knocked his chair out from beneath him so fast it nearly killed the cat, and then whipped around with the most bewildered look I'd ever seen him wear, sharp and wild. He was definitely awake, now.

I steadied a hand on his arm before someone got gutted with a spoon, although the look Crono shot me suggested I was next on that list. _Explain. NOW._

Not wasting a second, I explained everything I knew, which unfortunately wasn't much, but once I got to the part about a gate being nearby I didn't have to do any more convincing. Crono was as interested in the venture as I was, even if it meant following Magus. He got ready to go in a heartbeat, sprinting upstairs to look for his old travel gear. He came back down minutes later--faded blue tunic, white headband, Rainbow sword and all--with a small piece of paper, which on closer inspection was a hand-written note: _Going to see Marle. Back later._

Crono started to leave it on the kitchen table when I asked, "That's for your mom?"

He nodded, but then flashed the note towards me with an inquiring, almost hopeful expression. _Marle coming, too?_

"Marle? Uh..." A reply hitched in my throat once I spied the dangerous curl of Magus's lip. I didn't want to push my luck. It was hard enough to persuade the wizard to take us with him, and if I stalled any longer he just might lose his patience and take the Gate Key, with or without me--or my precious internal organs. It was a big enough risk to ask for Crono's company, but I had my reasons, even if they were mostly self-preservation. I didn't trust my own well-being around that mass-murderer, and Crono had always covered my back in a pinch. I knew I could count on him to be a buffer, and quite frankly, out of our whole lot I think Crono offended Magus the least.

"Maybe later," I answered cautiously. Crono flung a cursory look from Magus to me, and when our eyes locked for that half-second he seemed to understand, though the disappointment was evident. He nodded glumly and led the way out.

Magus guided us just north of town, past Leene Square and into Truce Canyon. The constant rain was starting to wear the grassy slopes into hazardous banks, and every few turns the path broke off into frothing, muddy ditches. Eventually we uncovered a small cave dug out of the clay and rocks, and when we crawled inside, what we found amazed us.

The cavern was as large as a chapel, decked in smooth, dark slate and flooded with rippling blue light, as from the bottom of a pool. At the head of the chamber was what could be best described as some sort of shrine. Four chalky white columns were set in a square beneath a canopy of pulsing, electric-blue cables that spiraled to the ground and flowed along niches in the floor. The cables converged at a marble pedestal at the center, upon which sat an array of silver rings around a familiar orb, its dancing indigo flame the main source of light in the room.

It was a gate. "Incredible..." I whispered. The entire structure was covered in engravings too obscure to name. Most notable were the silver rings encasing the gate: four in total, each set within the next in diminishing diameter. A series of ciphers were inscribed on the metal bands: eight on the innermost, twelve on the next, twenty-one on the third and over fifty on the outermost, which sat fixed on the pedestal.

"Who could have made this...?" I wondered aloud. Guessing by the sundry hand and paw-prints moulded around the columns, it could be anyone--or anything's--handiwork. There was no way a construction as intricate and mechanical as this was natural. The question was rather: which came first, the shrine or the gate? Was this built recently? Everything was in pristine shape, with the surrounding rocks cut jagged and fresh. I reached out to touch the centerpiece and Crono started half a step with a wary twinge. When I skimmed my finger over the inner ring it spun fluidly within its setting like a wheel, perhaps suspended in air by the local gravity of the gate.

I squinted at their runes, racking my brain. They were familiar, terribly familiar, but I couldn't fathom from where...

"I woke up here," Magus elucidated. We both looked to him as he stared into the gate with a grim glaze to his eyes. "I found something, under the sea. An immense building. It looked like the Ocean Palace."

Crono and I shared an alarmed blink. "That's impossible!"

He nodded. "It was. So I went below the surface to look. That's when I was attacked."

"By what?"

"A sea serpent. It was no ordinary beast; it repelled my magic. Before it could finish me, I blacked out. When I came to, here I was." His gaze flickered to the cavern's entrance. "Alone."

I shook my head. "That's it? That doesn't make any sense."

Crono shrugged and waved one arm towards the gate. I shrugged back. "I don't know... Do you think this gate will take us back there? What if that sea serpent's waiting for us?"

"It better be," Magus determined as he tightened his glove over his left hand. He was itching for a fight. Magus was generally unexpressive (unless you counted 'brooding' and 'bitchy,' his default expressions) so subtle changes in body language, particularly habitual ones, became easy to read. Perhaps all those years of "talking" to Crono gave me a sense of such things.

At any rate, that was my cue. I fished the Gate Key out of my bag and checked Crono. He passed me a lost, lopsided grin. _Ready when you are?_

I stepped back, squared with the gate and aimed the key at it. I had no idea what I was doing--none of us did. When it came to the gates, that was par for the course. It's not like we could consult an expert--hell, we _were_ the experts. "Alright, here goes nothing..."

The high-pitched twang of the key unlocking a gate was a sound I thought I'd never hear again. For a second the gate shuddered and sparked, sapphire bolts licking the rim of its container, and then the portal exploded outwards, swallowing the entire pedestal and stretching to fill the space between the columns. I flinched as a blast of cold air erupted from the gate, though before I could blink twice Magus was already stepping through, as fearless as ever. He vanished into the vortex like a fish into the deep end.

I checked Crono again; he nodded haltingly and then sprinted to catch up with Magus. "Crazy..." I muttered before following suit. The last thing I saw before crossing over was the white flash of the gate closing behind us.


	3. The Magic Cave

**3. The Magic Cave**

Once we reached the other side of the gate, I dropped to my knees and waited for the world to turn right-side-up. One of the first things I saw was Crono rising from a cat-like crouch, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He always weathered those jumps better than the rest of us.

Sometimes I missed the Epoch. It made our rides through the fourth dimension smooth, quick and easy. Gates are a dizzy, unstable, unpredictable, radical approach to time travel. I don't get motion sick--well, easily--but gates have more than once brought me to the brink. I speculate, though, that even if we hadn't flown that time machine down Lavos's throat, we would have decided to dismantle it, anyway. The Epoch helped us immensely, but it was not to be used lightly, and I take the business of time travel rather seriously (hey, one of us has to.) Some things mankind really isn't meant to mess around with.

Don't get me wrong; I'm still a total hypocrite.

The chamber we arrived in was almost identical to the one we left, and for a minute I thought we hadn't gone anywhere. This cavern was smaller, however, with the ceiling closed in, and the walls had a gritty, reddish hue. There was a single, narrow hall leading out into darkness, not daylight.

What first made us realize we had a problem was that Magus was gone. I wasn't sure which I was about to remark on first: that the jerk abandoned us already or that something reeked terribly of mildew and excretion. I was paused when Crono raised his hand, his gaze stabbing into the dark. _Listen._

I couldn't hear a thing, but Crono wasn't fooling around, so I pulled out my gun. He started pacing down the corridor, and I followed shortly behind. The light of the gate receded as the passage opened into a wider cavern, this one pitch black. The air was tense and heavy, like the lull before a storm, and with each step that stench grew stronger. "Seriously, what is that funk?" I hissed, and Crono tossed me the _shush_ look.

If I had been paying attention, it might have seemed familiar. Even if I recognized it, I doubt I could have stopped the huge, ungainly blob that shot out of the dark and knocked Crono down like a passing train. Both flew out of my line of sight and off to the right, where I heard a powerful, echoing thud, something sharp skidding across stone and then a hideous snarl. Spurred by panic, I charged in after them, sweeping my gun in aimless circles. I could hardly find my bearings, much less anything to shoot, until a sliver of hope rang out: the magical alloy of the Rainbow glimmering in the dark as it was drawn from its sheath. It cast a firefly-glow around the immediate area, and I found Crono waving it like a torch as he staggered to his feet.

I locked my sights on the hulking silhouette between me and the sword. It was as tall and hefty as two grown men, and when it spoke its voice was toothy and blaring, like a broken tuba. "BAKAN KILL HUMANS!"

It lunged forward, swinging arms as thick as barrels, and the light was lost for a moment as Crono ducked under its swipe and then jabbed upwards, burying the Rainbow in the beast's torso. The monster--Bakan--threw its head back with a deep, gargling shriek, though before Crono could break away he was grabbed by the collar, hefted off the ground and flung across the room. The sword was yanked free with an ugly splattering sound while Crono tumbled to the side, and just as Bakan lurched as if to pounce, I took my shot.

My gun was fairly powerful for an air pistol, but not worth much more than killing rats and squirrels. I didn't expect to do any real damage against something as big as a coach, but that wasn't my intention. I managed to bury two pellets in the side of its snout, distracting it to the point of crying and whirling around. As it faced me, I took stock of its appearance: the stout, muscular legs and trunk; the scabrous reptilian skin; the oversized forelimbs tipped with scissor-like claws; and the twin rows of quills running down its hunched back to the tip of its short, meaty tail. It fixed me with a pair of big yellow eyes, although its next attack wasn't what I expected.

"DEATH TO THE MYSTICS' ENEMIES!" it seethed, inky blood oozing from its ribs and gaping jaws as fluorescent blue mist began brewing between its palms. That's when I realized what we were facing, a second too late--it was a water dragon, a heckran.

It slapped its puddle of magic like a child playing in a wading pool, and out flew a tidal wave, crashing around the room and knocking me against the wall. For a while all I could see and hear was black water, murmuring in my ears and pasting me to the rocks like a hapless starfish. The spell subsided a minute later, leaving everything slick and steaming with an odor not unlike a sewer while I was left rubbing the knot on the back of my head. My gun was washed away in the tide, and I'd almost thought I lost my glasses, too, until I scrambled a little ways and picked them off the ground.

The Rainbow came into focus first, lying on the ground distressingly sans-owner. A set of stumpy, scaly legs shuffled in front of it, and I had to look up to meet the heckran's face, its crocodilian mug grinning doom at me.

"BAKAN..." it said again, stupidly yet savagely, and I grimaced as hot spittle landed on my cheek. I was too busy figuring whether or not I could dodge the blow it was raising against me to notice the low whistle of a magic wind sweeping towards the back of the cave. The next thing to strike was a streak of white-hot gold that arched across the ceiling and skewered the heckran like a meat hook. I sat thunderstruck while Bakan was chained to the spot by the lightning bolt, and though it jerked and writhed profusely, any howls were drowned in the buzzing ozone.

I had never seen a spell of electricity sustained that long, but after an eternity it dissipated with a resonant crack, like a shattered string of stars. Bakan twitched and then crumpled, hitting the floor with a wet, sizzling thud.

I blinked in the aftermath, blinded and amazed. The heckran--what was left of it--laid smoldering, its noxious barbeque adding one more aroma to the cavern. I shakily stood and looked for the spell's caster, but when I found Crono crawling along the opposite wall, washed-out and disoriented, I realized it wasn't him. I turned the other way and there was Magus, standing plainly with his hand outstretched in the heckran's direction. He lowered his arm and then faced me with a flat expression that could have meant anything or nothing at all, the way the shadows fell over his brow.

"Magus!" Maybe it was the overdue adrenaline rush making me aggressive, or maybe I knew better than to expect a genuinely helping hand from the man, but right away I sputtered, "What the--you--how long were you gonna just stand there before helping us??"

He didn't respond. I reached to wipe off my glasses, and when my sleeves felt damp and heavy I realized what was worse. "Wait a second--a _lightning_ spell? Hello?? We're completely covered in water! Water conducts electricity, thank you! Were you trying to cook us all alive?!" Actually, pure H2O with no contaminants or dissolved ions does not conduct electricity at all, but the 'purity' of the water in that rank cave really wasn't up for debate.

"I missed," Magus sneered resentfully, obviously touched by my gratitude. He tilted an impatient look towards Crono, who was just recovering his sword. I skipped around the smoking pile of dragon meat to join him.

"I can't believe we ran into a heckran," I said. Crono shook his head dazedly in accord. _I can't believe a heckran ran into ME._ He rolled his shoulders with a wince, shook dry the Rainbow and started to sheathe it, but then changed his mind, holding it by his side for a makeshift lantern. Its iridescent tinge made the dew on the surrounding rocks shine like soap bubbles, and I could see where Crono's clothes was sheared and mottled with blood.

"You look like a butcher," I remarked, nudging his arm, and Crono huffed with a small grin.

"You're both pathetic," was Magus's verdict, and that's when it sank in: the reason he didn't help sooner was because he was testing us.

"Wha--why, you...!" I wasn't sure whether I was more offended by the principle or the humiliation of it all, but before I could call him every nasty name in the book he turned and strode off, a tongue of flame balanced in the palm of his hand like a candle.

"Com'on."

That was the closest thing to an invitation we were going to get, so I bit my tongue and followed. If I didn't trip over my gun on the way, I would have left it behind. We worked our way through a serpentine cavern that looked and smelled like a golem's intestines, while bats chirped over our heads and rats scurried behind us. The walkway would level and narrow at lengths before stepping up or down in tiers, lending the impression of stairs. The whole design appeared suspiciously deliberate--not to mention familiar--although Magus was taking each corner too quickly for us to catch up and dwell on it.

He eventually paused at a fork in the path. I took that second to read Crono's outlook on the place, just to make sure I wasn't going crazy with deja vu. He met my searching look instantly, eyebrows drawn together and lips slightly parted on the verge of asking, _Haven't we been here before?_

"Hey Magus, do you know where we are?" I spoke up.

Magus looked left, then right, and then reached up, passing his flame onto an obscure projection that caught it instantly. The fire blossomed into a proper torch, and all at once similar fires sprung to life, all along the upper walls of the passageway. We could hear vermin scrambling for the cover of shadow in all directions as the cavern's naturally rusty colors ignited in the torchlight.

"Hmm," was all Magus said about it, and then he picked up the pace, turning left.

"H-Hey!" I tried to stop him, but then we were playing catch-up again. It wasn't long before we finally found an exit, an arched stairway stepping out into fresh air. It was such a relief to breathe in the outdoors and look up to a clear afternoon sky that I almost didn't notice what was directly ahead.

It rose like a small mountain at the end of a beaten, leaf-strewn path, enclosed by scorched trees and thorny brambles. Its massive, wilting towers were laced together with rubble and narrow bridges, like a petrified spider's den. Its corners were cracked and crumbling, the keep at the center long fallen, though the outer segments remained intact, if as dead and hollow as a graveyard.

"Whoa, this is...!" I buried my heels in the ground, as if that could anchor me against the evil gravity of the place. Even in its ruined state, it was an unmistakable, haunted edifice. Nothing in history could match it.

Magus stopped ahead of us, appraised the abandoned mystic citadel with a wide, roving gaze, and then smirked. "Heh. Home." _Magus's Castle._

I stood back and rationalized our locale. "So, that gate took us into the Magic Cave. I don't get it, though. Gates are supposed to traverse the time-stream, not relative space. This isn't the same geographic latitude as Truce Canyon--we're not even on the same continent!"

"Obviously these gates are different," Magus drawled sardonically.

I took a hint. "Okay, so... We're going in?"

The question hung on an eerily chilly summer breeze. Magus stood like one of his statues, considering it, while I passed a silent version of my query to Crono. I had to turn around completely to find him; I hadn't realized he was lagging behind. He was on his hands and knees, his head bowed in an unreadable stance.

"What in the world are you looking at?" At first I thought he might have found something, but as I approached, Crono collapsed face-first into the dirt.

"H-Hey! You okay?" I tried not to give my sense of dread room to talk as I dropped next to him and prodded his side. "Com'on, this isn't funny."

He shuddered and snorted like a sick horse, but refused to face me. Since asking him was useless, I took his arm and dragged him upright. He was alarmingly pliant for his usually obstinate self, and when I glimpsed his face I saw why: his expression was a blank slate, glazed and faint.

My voice hitched a note higher as my heart stuck in my throat. "Geez, you're pale! Hold still, okay?" I instructed as I began to scan for injuries. What I didn't notice under torchlight was obvious under the sun. His tunic from shoulder to sternum was shredded all the way through the shirt and to the skin, as with claws. Big, sharp dragon claws from big, venomous dragons. I pushed aside the ruined fabric and found two long, deep lacerations, the surrounding flesh already turning an unsavory purple.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, not caring if it was unladylike. Crono had certainly heard worse out of my mouth when one or another of my inventions went haywire. I neglected to call him a dolt like I normally would, but I couldn't honestly say who was more of an idiot: him for not saying anything, or me for assuming all that blood was the dragon's. "I think that's heckran venom!" I announced, and Crono decidedly heard me, his dim blue eyes widening with a strangled gasp.

"We don't have time for this," Magus remarked, about as concerned as an undertaker. I jumped to my feet, fists balled at my sides, and aimed a righteous glare at the wizard. "Gimme a break! Do you know what heckran venom does? This is serious! Now that it's caught up with him, Crono's not going anywhere, and neither am I. We need to find a place to rest, like, _now_."

Magus narrowed a critical look, either sizing me up or staring me down. I wasn't about to take his jerkoff-ery with the only person I could count on--my best friend--in jeopardy (even if jerkoff-ery wasn't a word.) When I returned his silent treatment with just as much vitriol, he rolled his eyes with a sigh, turned and marched up to the castle's gothic front gates. They groaned open at the wave of his hand.

"Fine. Com'on."


	4. The Haunted Castle

**4. The Haunted Castle**

I got bit by a snake, once.

It was on the last night of the Millennial Fair, after bidding my friends farewell and watching the gate in Leene Square close for good. I was just walking home with my parents when the slimy bastard jumped out of the grass and bit me on the leg. It was an absolutely rotten way to end such a beautiful and bittersweet evening. I wasn't even able to catch and skewer the culprit, but luckily its venom wasn't lethal--it was just a pain to walk for the next few days.

What was really strange about the entire mishap was the bruise-like scar it left behind: a livid contusion that slowly spread up my calf and thigh. It turned my veins spidery black, was numb to the touch and sometimes ached to the bone, and when a couple of weeks passed with no signs of it fading away, I started to fear necrosis. I remember sitting up on the kitchen counter while my mom fussed over it, telling me with her kind, strong voice not to worry, that some things needed more time to heal than others. I must have looked like I was about to cry. She kissed me on the forehead and said I was being silly--that there was nothing to be scared about. Meanwhile, my dad stood back and laughed it off. 'Don't worry! If your leg falls off, we'll just build you a new one!' I laughed back and told him he couldn't even build a new leg for our kitchen table, and even my mom cracked up at that.

The irony didn't escape me, but weirdly enough, my father's words were comforting. He always knew just what to say to lighten the heart of a room.

My leg never did heal. The scar kept spreading bit by bit, just a millimeter every day, though over the years it added up. Some days it felt tender and sore like a real bruise, some days it seethed like a fresh burn, and some days I couldn't feel it at all. I learned to walk it off, and over time it became as natural as anything. I tried to say I didn't care if it looks ugly--that my looks were never a priority, anyway--but honestly, I couldn't help being self-conscious about it. I took to wearing long pants all the time for that reason.

However awful all of this sounds, let me assure you: even as I bear these scars and the occasional leg-cramp to my dying day, it can never, ever possibly amount to the pain and trauma of a single night of heckran poisoning. Crono proved me that.

Magus's Castle wasn't any more inviting on the inside than it was on the outside. It was ghastly, if richly furnished, filled with stone beasts and golden demons that leered at us through the banisters. The windows were cased in black iron webs, and tapestries depicted monsters in black and bloody tones. Summoning Lavos had taken its toll; for whatever sections remained standing, the bricks were shaken, the tiles were splintered, spots in the floor and ceiling had eroded and many of the halls had caved in outright. Though the place was deserted, it seemed to still knew its master, and welcome him. Magus led us up the foyer's grand staircase and into a far wing of the castle, a dark draught licking his cloak and lighting every sconce in his wake.

The halls were sickeningly quiet. All I could hear was the carpet gnawing on our footsteps and Crono's breath over my ear, stuttering and labored. I half-dragged him the whole way, his arm thrown over my shoulder as I resolved to hold him up. Even without reading his face, I could tell he was sick by the way he limped and trembled. Wherever Magus was leading us, I wasn't sure we would make it, since there was no way I had the strength to carry his dead weight if he passed out. I was pretty scrawny, even for a girl, and Crono was not exactly a lightweight.

_Just wait until the rest of the poison sets in_, a pessimistic--and slightly sadistic--voice muttered in my head. That happened sometimes, whenever I was alone or trapped with my own thoughts--that murky, hissing, insidious voice, suggesting things... unpleasant things. I never used to hear it before I encountered Lavos. I would wonder if there was a connection, but generally I shut it out because I preferred not to be crazy.

I nearly jumped out of my boots when Magus stopped, held his arm out towards a door and kicked it open with the force of his will. Sawdust trickled from the wooden frame and the shattering hinges echoed all the way down the hall as the door crashed against the inside wall. Magus nodded into the room. "You can rest in there."

We dragged our feet through the threshold and looked around. It was an austere, boxed-in space with dingy brick walls. There was a bare bunk in the corner and a wooden stand next to it, beneath a high, grated window. Upon the table and beneath a sheet of dust was a candle set in a human skull. If I didn't know any better I would've called it a prison cell, but this was Magus's Castle, and if memory served, the dungeons were at least twice as despicable (and full of animated skeletons.) I rather assumed it was a private barrack.

"Uh... thanks," I dimly thanked Magus. The first thing Crono did was flop face-first onto the bed, obviously spent. I found a clear space to sit next to him and likewise took a break. I had to think of what to do next. I had to take care of Crono, somehow. I was the only one around to do it, since I couldn't count on Magus to give a damn. Heckran venom... It was dangerous, but Crono had weathered through it before. I only had to make sure the wound stayed clean and he got enough rest.

I sighed and twisted around to check on my 'patient.' "All right, you big lug, let's get a look at those scratches..." I shoved him and he steeled up with a hiss. "Com'on, roll over," I insisted, pushing harder. "Now's not the time to be stubb--"

I wasn't prepared for the knee to the gut, but what shocked me more was the wavering, frenzied shout Crono gave as he pushed me off the side of the bunk and kicked himself into the corner. I yelped and recoiled, as stricken with fright as I was with surprise. I had _never_ seen--much less heard--Crono lash out like that. He sat hunched against the bricks, his breath harsh and shallow, his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes clenched shut as he cringed all over like a mouse. One of the neurotoxin's more brutal effects must have been setting in, the one that amplified every false move into searing pain.

I swallowed my breath--he nearly knocked the wind out of me--and put up a calm front. "Whoa... sorry. I didn't mean to." To hurt him, that is. I still meant to examine those cuts, so I sat down on the bunk again, treading with caution. He let my hand rest on his clean shoulder, to my slight relief. His skin felt sticky and cold. "Hey, look at me."

He did, one eye cracking open and peering at me through his shaggy mop of red hair. I could see the strands sticking to his brow with icy-fresh sweat. There was a quivering, tortured glint in his eye, though his expression softened with a touch of apology. _Sorry._

My throat felt tight; I swallowed again. It almost hurt. "'s okay. Listen, I'm going to go find some supplies, maybe some medicine... You stay here, okay?"

As if I had to ask--he probably couldn't walk if he tried. He nodded shakily and ducked under his arms, wrapping himself in a ball. I got up and moving. I couldn't stand to leave him like that, but frankly, I couldn't stand to watch him like that, either. It made my stomach sink and my chest ache. Crono was always the strong one. He didn't whine, he didn't complain--well, he never said anything, but he never _acted_ hurt, either. He was dumbly impervious to suffering in a way that was infectious, making us all feel invincible. When something like this happened, I didn't know what to do. Marle would...

...Anyway. Supplies. I figured the derelict old castle had to have bandages or tonics stashed somewhere, so I decided to ask Magus. I stepped outside and called him out. "Hey Ma...!" As soon as I did, however, I was struck by my query's fatal flaw. "...gus."

He was gone.

"Son of a... damnit," I cursed impotently, scanning both ends of the hall for any sign of the wizard. Vanishing into thin air was becoming his strong suit.

I didn't have much of a choice. Despite the risk of never finding my way back again, I went out on my own. I was actually good at mentally mapping my way around places, and it wasn't as if I had never visited the castle before. I thought it would be spooky to navigate the most infamous castle in the world by my lonesome, but I was too driven to find something useful to let the creeps to get to me. Back when we first visited (invaded?) the place, it was nighttime, and under the full moon were all those old clichés you find in horror stories. In the daytime, however, there was an odd, sedated pall about the grounds, as if every malicious spirit were still asleep. It wouldn't be too treacherous, as long as the paths weren't still booby-trapped.

Fortunately, I wandered for an hour and didn't uncover any traps. Unfortunately, I wandered for an hour and didn't uncover _anything_. I stumbled over some food stores at one point, but every bag and crate was torn and emptied, with loose grain, flour and rat pellets scattered over the floor. The sight of the looted pantry made my stomach growl, and I realized none of us had a bite to eat all day. I had to keep going on empty. The best luck I had was in some spare quarters similar to the room Magus gave us, where a mystic flunky apparently kept a bottle of tonic and a flask of whiskey under his bed.

Later I discovered an inner courtyard, its quilted masonry overrun by moss and vines. It was such a nice, peaceful garden for such a foreboding place, even if it was mostly weeds. Next to an old-fashioned stone well was a tattered white sheet on a clothesline, and I took it along with a pail of fresh water.

I made it back to our room without incident, though grudging Magus's absence. The man could have at least told us where he was going. Crono wasn't in any better shape, although he had curled up on his side upon the bed. He greeted me with a wan smile, and I forced a smile back. I then sat on the edge of the bunk and started to unpack my findings. I was going to lament the total lack of food, but on second thought I realized that hunger was probably the furthest thing from Crono's mind.

Instead, I gave him the tonic and ordered him to drink it all. I hoped its numbing properties would relax him enough to let me treat his injuries, though when I asked him to take off his shirt next, he fixed me with a reluctant grimace. _You're killing me._

"I know, but just do it," I said plainly, trying to sound reasonable. I needed Crono to trust me. "If those cuts get infected, it's just going to get worse."

He nodded, pulled the ruined shirt over his head and then fought to sit still while I did the best I could with the well water and torn sheet. There wasn't anything to do about the venom itself, but I was able to apply the whiskey as an antiseptic, even if Crono nearly punted me off the bed again for adding fire to an already burning wound.

I wasn't the best nurse in the world, but eventually I had the nasty gashes washed and wrapped. Crono dropped back onto the mat with an appreciative grunt. He looked utterly drained, clenching his fists with every drawn breath, and the tenuous look in his eyes phased between bleary exhaustion and acute pain. I tried to get him to speak to me (well, "speak" as much as Crono would) but I could hardly read his bearings, much less his expression, and if I tried much harder it would make me sick with empathy. I didn't know what to do, except wish him a good rest and take a seat on the floor.

I was getting tired, myself. I sighed raggedly and let my head fall against the edge of the bunk. I could've taken a nap, if only my clothes weren't still soggy, the floor wasn't hard and my stomach would quit grumbling. I wished the room Magus picked out had another bed, but it was too late to ask, and Crono was too paralyzed to move again. I didn't want to leave his side.

Nothing, nada, no food anywhere, Magus, Ozzie and rats be damned. Since I had nothing better to do than sit and think, I wondered what exactly we were looking for when we got to this era. There was something special about those shrines, and I was determined to find out who built them and what made them tick. I just didn't know where--or when--to start looking. Why didn't the gate take us back to the Dark Ages, where Magus (presumably) came from? We had to be in the Middle Ages, judging by the... recently renovated look of Magus's Castle, but that knowledge didn't solve anything. It just threw another wrench in the dark.

And what about that heckran? It was a long shot from its natural habitat. Heckran dwelled around water--specifically, in the Heckran Cave on the Medinan continent. Did those caves even exist yet in this time? I wanted to believe so--that four hundred years wasn't very long ago geologically speaking--but I wasn't sure. So what was that one heckran doing right outside the gate? Perhaps the same thing that sea serpent Magus was talking about--guarding it, maybe? From what--or whom? Hadn't it said, 'DEATH TO THE MYSTICS' ENEMIES'? That sounded familiar... Perhaps it was a disgruntled war veteren; the Mystic Wars left plenty of those to spare. That still didn't answer what it was doing around the gate...

I got a headache; I couldn't think any more. I closed my eyes, just to rest them for a moment, and before I knew better I was asleep.

A while later--it must have been a few hours--I started awake with a crick in my neck. I had a dreamlike inkling of footsteps passing the door, but when I looked that way, the hall was vacant. I rolled my shoulders, yawned and glanced out the tiny window, where a blue eastern sky was fading to purple. Still no sign of Magus. I was going to kill him, if he ever came back.

_He's going to leave you here to rot_, murmured the bad thoughts. I ignored them. Magus was going to come back, and I was going to kill him. ...Maybe those thoughts weren't much better.

My gaze fell from the window to the candle on the nightstand. It wasn't lit, though I didn't have a lighter or any matches on me. I cursed the dawning darkness and my lack of provisions for a while until that voice cackled in a tone that sounded disconcertingly like my own, for a change, _Yes, it's too bad you don't know FIRE magic._

"Oh, that's rich..." I muttered as I smacked myself on the forehead. I sat up and leaned on the table, inspecting the candle and its holder. An empty eye socket stared right back. Geez, Magus was a classy interior decorator. Did _everything_ have to look like a rich sadist's tomb? I never minded the skull and focused on the candle.

I was a little out of practice, I knew. Magic wasn't the sort of thing one could just brush up on in the comfort of one's home, and I never let my parents know I had the ability to set the house on fire with a simple chant (I was bad enough at setting things on fire _without_ magic, thanks very much.) It was the same for Crono and Marle, albeit more political for the latter, since magic-using humans hadn't been very popular since the Mystic Wars, and it just wouldn't do for the princess of Guardia to be an ice witch. More than once she had affected a, 'So what? I don't care!' attitude on the subject, but evidently her sense of discretion overruled her rebelliousness, since I never heard any trouble over it.

At any rate, I was no Magus. I could dish out some serious damage if I put my mind into it, but I didn't have his finesse. I wondered if I could light such a tiny little candle without--_voosh._

"Ah! Damnit..." I fell back and sucked on my scorched fingertips. The spell had jumped right out of my hand like a wild rodent, razing the top half of the candle and leaving a splatter of wax on the wall behind it. At least the wick was lit, so mission accomplished.

The flash of magic jarred Crono out of his dozing with a dull yelp, and his eyes frantically darted around the room as he raced to catch his breath. "Oh! My bad, my bad," I quickly apologized. I then sheepishly gestured to the candle, as if it were a consolation prize. "Um, look! Magic."

He dropped his white-knuckled guard and regarded it with a strained, bemused blink. _That's nice. _Before it occurred to me to ask if he was feeling better, Crono shivered, rolled onto his side and buried his face in the mat, shutting me out. I turned away and sat down again.

I worried, I wondered, I waited--I got bored. I played tic-tac-toe in the dust until I realized that the outcome is always determined on the second player's first turn (If O chooses a corner, it's a tie. If O chooses a side, O loses. If O takes the center, O wins. Isn't that nice to know?) Then I pulled out my sketchpad, deciding to work on my latest idea. I sat with the paper in my lap and a pen in my hand for at least ten minutes without a single notion crossing the page. I was at a loss--I couldn't think of anything useful.

My mother used to tell me that an idle mind is the Devil's workshop. _Let's have a talk._

_'Let's not,'_ I humored the voice, talking back within the confines of my mind.

_Let's suppose your dear friend doesn't survive the night..._

_'He will, shut up.'_ I wasn't in the mood to debate, especially with myself. Or within myself--I wasn't sure, but I wasn't willing to let it drive me crazy.

_Not yet_, it retorted, and I didn't think to ask whether it meant the crazy part, the shutting up part, or...

I didn't hear another word, although my right leg started burning. I gritted my teeth and kneaded the sore spot through the fabric of my pants, cursing the timing of it all. That scar--I still didn't know what to call it, really--always picked the perfect moment to act up.

That's when I heard a quiet, keening moan behind me, and suddenly all my crazy little discomforts didn't matter so much.

Once upon a time, my dad tried to catch a muskrat he suspected was digging in our garbage. We waited until we were about to take a three-day trip into town and then set a bunch of steel traps around the back of the house. Turns out, we didn't catch a rat; we caught a dog, some stray that had been rummaging around our island. The trap snapped over its leg, which got twisted and mangled from the dog trying to wrench itself free. It had to have been trapped for days, and I couldn't forget the way the dog looked then, laying on its side over the blood-streaked grass, eaten by mites and emaciated. Its eyes were dark, glassy and distant, and its panting was distorted with a weak growl, as if it were still kicking and fighting in a demented half-dream. It didn't move when we approached, or seem to acknowledge us at all, but my dad bid me stay back in case it was rabid. I then ran into the house while he took his rifle and put the dog out of its misery.

Crono looked like that dog. His eyes had that same glazed, low-lidded look, and he breathed in short wheezes that sounded like growls. He lay limp and shriveled on his side, his skin bleached and glossy with sweat. He would occasionally dig his fingers in the mat with a more pronounced gasp and a twitch of pain, but he didn't see me or the table in front of him or... anything. He just kept murmuring like a stray caught in trap, slowly bleeding to death.

_Why not put him out of his misery, too? It's not a rifle, but you DO have a gun handy... Hah!_

I climbed onto the edge of the bunk and sat with him, since my company was the only thing I had to offer. "Sorry..." I whispered, feeling irrepressibly stupid and helpless. "What can I do?"

_Nothing, really. Just watch him suffer._

_'Shut up!'_ I fired back, even if it was detrimental to my sanity. There was a lump in my throat that tasted like sick, but I couldn't swallow it. The voice was right; I couldn't help him. I didn't have another tonic or any medicine at all, and I hated myself for being useless. I couldn't remember if it was this bad the last time--Marle was with us, and she had a healing touch. I was only good at burning things.

I laid my hand on Crono's wrist, hoping he wasn't too delirious to respond--and that's when he snapped. It was so swift and sudden I thought he was about to kick me again, so I flinched. The last thing I expected was for him to jerk across the bunk and throw his arms around me, and I squeaked and stiffened like a dolt. I didn't dare move--breathe, even--for an agonizing minute, my face pressed into his shoulder as he squeezed my ribs in a bear hug. He smelled like dragon musk, sweat, dried blood and alcohol, and I could feel the trembling in his arms and the furious pounding of his heart. His breath was hot and raspy in my hair, and the next thing I heard over the feverish thrumming in my ears were his own words--desperate, low and pleading.

"...don't go."

One of these days, when I wasn't on the spot like so, I wanted to tell Crono that I loved the sound of his voice. I was just afraid that if I did, he'd speak more often, and it wouldn't be as special anymore.

"U-Um, okay..." I stammered, dumbstruck, and it took another minute for my head to quit swimming. I wanted to say something soothing and rational--intelligible, even--but I gulped and my mouth was dry. I don't know how he managed to wreck my composure with a hug, but Crono was always talented like that.

He seemed content with my response anyway, making a gravelly noise in his throat that almost sounded like a purr. "Um..." I tried again, losing my nerve as I realized my skin was on fire too, as if the heckran's fever were contagious. I tried to relax, though Crono wouldn't let go, and I found myself returning the embrace, fingers fidgeting with the tail of his headband. My voice never came back, but Crono didn't mind--he would never say if he did, anyway.

The night dragged on, creaking and crawling with all those dark things that made the castle a haunted playground. I couldn't say how long we sat up together, but I remember rocking to sleep. I remembered kinder, more innocent days long gone, when Crono and I would take naps under our favorite birch tree, his quiet, steady protection all I ever needed. I remembered sleeping by his side in the shade under a hot afternoon sun, rather than sweltering under a fever inside a wretched fortress.

And I remember dreaming of a vampire standing over the bed and kissing my hand...

* * *

Credit goes to Angahith this round, for tic-tac-toe. He figured that out in his sleep--the guy's a freak genius.

Well, this is where I left off last time. Here's hoping for better returns. Thanks for readin'!


	5. The Mysterious Masamune

**5. The Mysterious Masamune**

When I woke up, I saw red, everywhere.

I also woke up with a serious case of morning daze, in which I couldn't recall where in the world I was or how I got there. All I had to go by was a bare, blurry brick room washed in crimson twilight, and for a delirious second I thought I had boarded some kind of ferry to hell. In the next second, before I could focus my eyes enough to wonder where the heck my glasses went, I realized that the warmth pooled next to me belonged to another body.

My heart fluttered with blind, stupid panic, though I kept enough of my wits to lie still until my memories caught up with me. At last I remembered to breathe, and then Crono gave a sigh of his own, stirring back to sleep. My head was resting on his shoulder, and I could discern the placid rise and fall of his chest. My left arm was buried under him--I'd lost all feeling to it--and his right arm was hooked behind me. It tingled a little where his fingertips brushed the small of my back--something strange, almost like the pins-and-needles of bad circulation, only less painful and more... warm.

I didn't dwell on our awkward position any longer than I had to, though I didn't want to move around and wake Crono up, either. He was finally sleeping peacefully, which was a good sign. Without rolling over, I skimmed the bunk for my glasses, and found them over my head, on the corner of the bed table. I couldn't even remember taking them off.

When I tried to lift my right arm to grab them, that's when I found something really freaking strange. There was a lot more weight to it than there should have been, and the sudden movement stirred up a wave of that odd, tingling sensation, all the way from my fingers to my elbow. I blinked and strained to look, realizing there was something tied to my wrist, and that something was Crono's arm. We were bound at the wrists by some strap of purple cloth I had never seen before, and though I couldn't see clearly, I could swear there were bloody patterns all over it.

"What the hell...?!" I whispered, and that was enough commotion to rouse my bunkmate. He started with a lazy snort, stretched shakily and reached as if to scratch his side, though when his hand dug into my ribs instead he started again, eyes fluttering open. He panned a bemused look across the ceiling and back down to the present, where he stared at me groggily for several moments before cracking an uncertain grin. _Good morning?_

I glanced back to my right arm, which was still tied to his wrist. Crono followed my look, and his eyebrows disappeared into his headband. _The hell?_

"...I didn't do that," I said lamely.

He must have believed me, because we stared at it like morons for another minute before one of us finally got the gumption to take the wrap off. Crono sat up and puzzled over the thing while I took my moment of freedom to reclaim my glasses. My left arm stung like crazy as the blood rushed back through it.

"What is that thing supposed to be? Give it here," I demanded, snatching the wrist wrap out of his dumb fingers. Crono looked suitably put out while I examined the evidence.

It was a strip of smooth, plum-dyed linen, frayed at the ends as if ripped off a larger piece. There were crudely drawn designs all the way around, like dark stains. Again I got that inkling of familiarity, the same one I had while inspecting the rings around that gate, although I still had no idea what in the world I was looking at. "Geez, what is this stuff, _blood?_" I wondered aloud, half afraid that I was correct, because the only thing left to assume was that somebody snuck into the room while Crono and I were asleep and tied our wrists together with some kind of hex-cloth. Written in _blood_. The look of muted horror on Crono's face mirrored my sentiment.

I put the thing down, rubbed the lingering, prickly-warm feeling out of my wrist and threw my feet over the side of the bunk, looking for my bearings. That was so crazy, I didn't even want to think about it. I decided to focus on the day ahead... whatever was going to happen. Crono tapped my shoulder and asked for a drink with a snap of his fingers, and I passed him a bottle filled with well water. He seemed much healthier, so the poison must have passed. We were fit to travel again, but where were we going, especially without Magus? He was supposed to be in charge of... something.

I hated being lost, and abandoned, and hungry. My stomach growled again, though the embarrassing noise was obscured by a warbling flutter at the window. I looked up and saw a pigeon, of all things, its white plumage bathed red and gold in the eerie sunrise. My musings knocked about some old rhyme I'd heard from the sailors around Truce--a mnemonic about predicting the weather. _'Red sky at night... red sky at night...'_ ...something-something. I couldn't quite recall. Some mnemonic aid, that was. _'Red sky at morning...'_

Right then Magus appeared without any warning, excuse or introduction at all. He looked like a grim portrait in the frame of the door, a hand propped on his hip and his hawkish gaze staring dead at us. _'...sailor's warning.'_

"Huh. You're still alive," he said blandly, as if he hadn't cared to take bets either way.

I forgot to act surprised and bolted up, every vow from last night about killing the man boiling to the surface. "No thanks to you! Where were you?? I crawled all over this miserable place and couldn't find you anywhere, much less a decent bite to eat! You have any idea how starved we are?"

Magus cocked a peculiar look at me that I couldn't interpret. What, did he not expect me to be _justifiably angry_? Meanwhile, at the first mention of food, Crono sat up straight and nodded furiously. Yep, he was definitely better.

Suddenly--and before Magus got the bright idea to reply--I had a radical thought. I whirled around, scooped the piece of hex-cloth off the edge of the bunk and wagged it at the warlock. "By the way, what the hell is this?? Is this some kind of _joke_? Because I sure as hell don't get it."

To his credit, Magus managed to look confused and indifferent at the same time. He shifted on his feet to look around the room, as if for a culprit--anyone to blame but himself.

"Whatever," I spat, giving up. I threw the cursed thing to the floor. "I don't care, as long as you have an idea about breakfast. I'm not even kidding."

Then, to my true astonishment, someone else appeared at the door. Someone stocky, clad in simple bronze armor and distinctly _green_. The pupils of his large, wide-set, bulbous eyes narrowed to hairs at the sight of us. "So, 'tis true," he uttered with a high-pitched croak.

"Frog!!" I can't lie. As miserable and grouchy as I was, I was really, really happy to see him. It's kind of ironic, considering I used to abhor frogs. I practically threw myself on the poor guy, though he accepted the welcome as gracefully as ever. "Ah, er..." When I stepped back and let him breathe, he finished his sentence, bowing slightly. "Lucca, Crono, it is a surprise and honor to see thee both."

Crono threw up a friendly (and duly surprised) wave, and I nodded in accord. "The feeling's mutual! But I don't understand; what are you doing here? How did you find us?"

Frog spared the wizard a shifty glance. "Believe it or not, I wast summoned." Funnily enough, a frog's mug could be very expressive, and he then assumed an abashed smile. "Ah... Frankly, I must apologize. When Magus told me he was in the company of 'that boy with the sword and that loud-mouthed girl,' I had presumed the latter to be Marle."

I started to laugh, but caught myself before I got it. "H...eeey," I said slowly, not sure at which point to take offense.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Crono flick his wrists and shrug. "Oh yeah," I piped in for him. "What do you mean, summoned?"

"I wasn't asking for you," Magus elucidated, pointing a glare down at Frog. "I was asking for your damn sword."

Frog set a hand on the hilt of the sword in question and stood back defensively. "The Masamune stays by my side at all times, scourge!"

"Tch, you're worse than the girl..." Magus grumbled, rolling his eyes. The expression looked almost absurd coming from Magus, and if he weren't talking about me I would have been amused.

"What do you need the Masamune for?" I asked, besides and straight to the point.

For a change, the man didn't equivocate. "Those spirits can read what's on that gate."

Frog relaxed, blinking up at Magus with genuine--if cautious--interest. "The spirits of the Masamune?"

I knew them, of course. At one point, we even had to fight the little guys (it was a "test," supposedly.) They were strange by all accounts, particularly for the way they imbued the Dreamstone alloy of that legendary sword with their own souls. I wasn't too sure about communicating with them, but if that was Magus's plan, it really wasn't such a bad one.

"Really? How do you know?" I enquired, although it was already starting to make sense. Masa and Mune once lived in the glory days of Zeal, and if the script on the gate was as archaic as the Dark Ages, where Magus came from in the first place...

Magus shrugged flatly. "Does it matter? I know."

I stamped a foot. "It kinda does matter! Anything we can find out about these gates would be a huge help."

"If it matters, they'll tell us." At that, Magus turned on his heel and marched out. "Now let's go."

Frog hesitated at the door before bowing to us again. "That Fiendlord waits for no man, I'rt afraid." He then chased after Magus.

"But...!" I was still hungry. I hated that bastard. I hurried and gathered my satchel while Crono pulled on his (unfortunately shredded) shirt and found his sword. I offered him a hand up out of bed. "You gonna be okay?" I asked, just to be sure.

He stood without my help, wobbled one step, stretched his arms and then nodded soundly. His eyes were clear and steady, just like always. _Yep._

I turned to go, then, but a hand on my shoulder held me back. Despite the annoying lack of speech, Crono was usually a pretty straightforward guy, so I could tell by the curiously reserved look on his face that he had something to say. "Yeah?" I prompted, trying not to sound hurried (though we were.)

That's when he pulled me into a hug. It wasn't like his death grip from last night, but something snug and simple. "Thanks," he murmured, and then let me go.

For the record, I wasn't blushing, though that weird sensation I woke up to came back in a rush. I quickly shook it off. "Um... no problem. Let's go catch up before Lord Jackass ditches us again."

Just to show that he wasn't a completely despicable host, Magus provided breakfast--magically, no less--from the basement kitchen, to vex my hours of fruitless hunting. "It's my castle," was his only response to my heated questions, and I had to bite my tongue if I wanted to keep my place at the table. We ate some biscuits with jam and then finally headed out.

It was a good thing Magus had the way memorized, as we went straight back to the cave. Frog was much more conversational than Magus, and we were able to have a refreshing chat on the way. I learned that he had spent the past three years serving his kingdom as a knight errant, although he never moved out of his hovel in the Cursed Woods. That was where Magus picked him up.

"What about Leene? I thought she liked having you around the castle," I pried, though the question seemed to hit home a little too hard, since Frog's gaze avoided mine.

"'Twould not... 'Tis better to keep mine distance," he said at length, and I shut up about it.

We couldn't help but stop in the chamber before the gate, where we were attacked. That noisome rank was still there, although the heckran's body had completely vanished.

Frog was understandably in the dark. "Wast there a battle here? Mine nose detects blood and smoke."

I could have made a remark about frogs not _having_ noses, but it wouldn't have helped. I adjusted my glasses. That didn't help, either. "I'm not hallucinating, right? There was a barbequed heckran _right here_ just yesterday."

We all stared at the spot where the dragon's remains should have been, more-or-less aghast. Magus followed the dark smear on the floor all the way to the gate shrine. "There's a trail of blood."

I couldn't believe the implications. "So... what? There's no way. That thing was _cooked_."

Crono scratched his head, just as baffled as the rest of us. "Mayhaps something carried it off?" Frog suggested.

"Like what, the _rats_?" I snapped, while Magus scrutinized the scuffed marks in the blood. "I see footprints. And smell Mystics," he announced.

"I don't like this at all, guys..." I felt the need to say. If that heckran had friends, it meant we would be running into more fights in our near future.

"If Mystics are behind this, we'll catch them soon enough," Magus asserted, narrowing his eyes at the gate. "Though I doubt it. They're not smart enough to make something like this."

Frog offered a low, appreciative croak in the shrine's direction. "So this be the gate... 'tis incredible. I hath not seen such a marvel since our time in the Kingdom of Zeal. It appears to be a masterwork of the Gurus' calibre. Whoever created such a thing?"

The Gurus? That hadn't occurred to me. Those three men were also from Zeal, and were geniuses in their own right. Time was Gaspar's specialty, though last I checked, he never left his post at the End of Time. Belthasar created the Epoch. And Melchior...? It still didn't make sense. There was no apparent motive or purpose, and it didn't explain the Mystics. Not yet.

"That's what we're hoping to find out," I said. Getting to business, Magus turned to Frog. "You, sword. Now."

"If thou'rt asking for it..." Frog said scathingly, not appreciating Magus's tone--though he didn't carry out his half-threat. He unsheathed the Masamune, held it in a passive stance and cleared his throat. "Spirits! Come to mine aid. Share thy vast knowledge with us."

I'm not a sword buff, but I must say the Masamune is an impressive blade. It can look like an ordinary broadsword at first glance, but when the energy of its Dreamstone is ignited, the thing really comes to life. It seemed to shudder in Frog's hand and glow with a poker-hot pulse. I watched Magus retreat the slightest step, not daring to face it directly. He must have remembered how that sword nearly sucked his magic dry, back when he was our enemy.

The sword emitted a sonorous ring that rose and faded with a flash of the steel--and was followed by a tall, hollow voice that filled the room.

_"Hwaaaaaaaa,"_ the voice drawled, gradually tempering to a normal, almost human tone. If I didn't know any better, it sounded like a great big yawn.

_"What's all this, now? We were having a fine nap,"_ said the sword.

Frog startled, holding the sword at arm's length. "Avast! The Masamune speaks!" he exclaimed, as if he didn't expect his petition to actually work. Honestly, I didn't either.

A similar voice chimed in, _"Hey Master! 'sup?"_

"A...aye?" Frog stammered, at a loss. They seemed to recognize us, at least. "Masa and... Mune?" I called out.

_"Yep! Name's Masa, don't wear it out. Oh hey, you're Master's friends."_  
_"Holy crap, if it isn't the Magus, too! Nice to see ya again, ol' pal,"_ Mune said with saccharine sarcasm.

Magus pointedly turned aside. "Hrmph. Stupid sword."

_"Ohhh yeah, he remembers us."_  
_"Heheheh."_

"I can break you again, you little bastards," Magus snarled. Frog swept the blade to one side, holding it at the ready, and I stepped in before some kind of magical catfight broke out.

"Whoa! Cool it just a second. Listen, Masa and Mune, we need your help. Can you read the writing on that gate?"

_"Gate? Where?"_ The sword pulsed again. _"Oh, that thing. Wow. Get a look'er there, brother."_  
_"Huh. It's been a long time since we've seen one of these, eh?"_  
_"I'll say."_

"Ye've seen this before?" Frog queried.

_"Oh yeah. Been a long time. Loooooong time."_  
_"Don't go telling them everything, Mune."_  
_"I'm not! Just sayin'."_

I was too excited over the prospect of deciphering the gate rings to drill them on whatever past they were keeping from us. "So you do recognize this? What do all those symbols mean?"

_"What?"_ Mune barked. _"You think we're supposed to be able to read it? You know what they say about assuming..."_

My heart sank, although suddenly I had an idea of where Magus picked up that idiom.

_"Now now, let's humor them,"_ Masa chided his brother.  
_"Oh, all right... It's an old alphabet!"_  
_"Really old."  
"Yeah, way outside the stuff you guys can read. Not even those old cats in Zeal knew everything about it."_  
_"Should we try to read it?"_  
_"I guess... Bring us a lil' closer, Master."_

Frog warily complied, stepping up to the shrine and holding the sword over the gate's pedestal like a torch.

_"Hmmm..."_ Masa mulled over it. _"Not much really, is it?"_  
_"Yeah, nothing special."_

"What do you mean?" I asked.

_"Well see, it's just a bunch of characters. I could tell you what they all mean, but it's not arranged in any way that makes sense. Y'know, like normal sentences. It's just markers."_

"Markers? As in... coordinates?" I guessed.

_"Bingo! I like you--you're the smart one."_  
_"Huh, do you see that?"_ Masa started on a tangent. _"I don't remember there being a fourth ring, do you?"_  
_"Nope. Ain't that somethin'!"_

"Where have you seen a gate like this before?" Magus finally asked, though I butted in at the same time, "What do the symbols on the fourth ring say?"

Magus's question was conveniently ignored.

_"We told you, nothin' special!"_  
_"Yeah, they're just elemental keys."_  
_"Yep, for the eight elements."_

"Eight? Spekkio told us of but four..." Frog mentioned.

_"Nah, nah, that old coot's talking about--well it's different. Magic is different."  
"Yeah, don't you know? Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Spirit, Shadow, Holy... I'm forgettin' one, bro..."  
"Time."  
"Right, right."_

"Time is an _element_?" I interjected, incredulous.

_"Sorta! It's not easy to explain. Anyway, I don't know why that fourth ring is there. They're not normally on these things."_  
_"This gate is special."_  
_"Yeah, I guess so."_ Mune sniggered. _"Heh! Time! I get it."_

I stepped onto the gate's platform with Frog and started to piece it together. "Okay, so... These rings set the coordinates to the gate. If we move this..." I nudged the inner ring like I had before, and it spun clockwise a notch. "It'll set our destination."

_"Pretty much,"_ Masa confirmed.  
_"Don't the other rings move, too?"_  
_"They should..."_

Frog tested their thought, though the outer rings didn't budge, despite the knight's muscle. "'Tis no use," he conceded.

"Is that all?" Magus sounded disappointed.

"I guess..." I looked closely at the gate. There was a notch at the top of the setting that looked like an indicator, pointing to one of the runes. "Is there a good way to figure out which one of these coordinates will take us back to Magus's time?"

_"Uh..."_ Mune stalled.  
_"Heh. Nope! Looks like you're going to have to play guessing games."_  
_"If there's eight keys, that could mean there's seven more gates out there."_  
_"Yep. Good luck!"_

"Great..." I sighed. We didn't learn much, but it was a start.

"So we're just going to shoot in the dark until we find where we're going? This is useless..." Magus grumbled.

"Well hey, not necessarily..." I spoke up, trying to be the optimist, for a change. I pulled out my notepad and pen, flipped to a blank page and started recording the gate's configuration as best as I could read it. "Like Mune just said, there's only eight possibilities. If we keep track of which coordinate goes where, we'll map our way through these things in no time."

The look Magus was aiming at me looked more like resignation than approval, though it certainly didn't look like he had a better idea. "Okay!" I chirped once I had finished writing. "That about does it. Are we ready to try this out?"

Crono took a bold step forward. Magus gave a disgruntled sigh and looked at the floor. Frog replaced the Masamune in its sheath and nodded.

"Aye. Let us not delay this adventure."

* * *

A/N: You said it, Frog. Well, that wasn't so hard--I think I'm really getting into this. See y'all next chapter!


	6. Mystic Mountain

**6. Mystic Mountain**

Time can be a delicate thing. Seemingly inconsequential decisions can cast ripples that pass down the ages. We watched a man in Porre turn from a greedy deadbeat dad into a generous, outgoing father at the drop of a stone.

On the other hand, sometimes it seems like there's a balance to it all that straightens history's course regardless of interference. Sometimes I wonder, would that make all our efforts futile, in the grand scheme of things?

I've said I don't like talking about fate, and I mean it. Case in point: on our initial adventure through time, when we first visited the prehistoric era, the Reptites stole our Gate Key. Ayla helped us storm their hideout and take it back, slaughtering dozens of Reptites in the process. Long after we thanked Ayla and went on our way, I started to consider the ramifications of our actions, and ended up in a debate with Marle.

"I don't get it..."  
"What?"  
"All those Reptites back there... I know they weren't human, but they were still people, right? Like the Mystics? And who knows how many we just killed! I know we were helping mankind and all, but the historical backlash should be enormous! The descendants of the descendants of those Reptites and anybody related should be lost! Why don't we notice such a dramatic change in our time?"  
Marle hummed and shrugged, as if we were talking about what to have for lunch. "Hmm... Maybe they aren't people we know, so we don't notice."  
"I'm not talking about just a few people being missing. I'm talking about radical changes in the course of history! People make history, you know, and if enough of the right people aren't around, over the course of _millions of years_..."  
"Maybe nothing's changed because... that's how it's supposed to happen!"  
"What?"  
"Maybe they were supposed to die, so that's why nothing's different."  
"_Supposed_ to? No, now you're getting into predestination, and I don't believe it. It's not rational."  
"Well, Ayla was with us, right? Doesn't she fight the Reptites all the time? Aren't dinosaurs extinct anyway? Maybe the descendants of those Reptites aren't anyone who doesn't get killed later."  
"Perhaps. That still makes the odds of not affecting long-term history astronomical."  
"Maybe you just need to let it go, and accept that it worked out _somehow_."  
"Huh! That's why you don't have a scientific mind, Marle. You never question anything."

We watched Lavos blow the Reptites away later, so maybe Marle wasn't too far off the mark. Still, it bothers me to go back in time and do things like that--because few things are as permanent as taking a life.

Anyway, I digress.

We took the gate and arrived in a new time and place. The shrine at our backs stood just like the others, though the scene before us was a little different. This cave was much more spacious, coated in lime, and smelled more like dirty straw than rotten meat. A winding corridor at the far end filled the chamber with diffused daylight. All over the stone floor were grimy puddles, and above a score of stalactites that concealed the lofty corners.

What caught our attention right away, though, was the pack of Mystics playing cards right in front of us. A gargoyle, two gnashers, a naga-ette, a winged ape and an ogan were parked around a wooden crate, and they paused their game to gawk at us. I'll never quite forget their faces--the ape's in particular, who had a six of clubs dangling from its lower lip. We couldn't have caught them more off guard if they were all on the toilet.

"What the-?" the gargoyle started.

The pair of snakes chimed together, "Humans!"

The ogan didn't sound pleased to see us. "How'd they just walk in here?"

We likewise froze, and there was an awkward standoff for a fraction of a minute before the first of us stepped forward and spoke. Frog's voice echoed around the cave with a ring of calm authority that would have made him a great public speaker, if only his every sentence weren't punctuated with a croak.

"We bear no quarrel with thee! We are naught but explorers. Please pardon our intrusion and allow us passage. We do not wish to fight."

Somewhere between 'quarrel' and 'intrusion' the ogan rose to his feet, dragging with him a nail-studded wooden club that was bigger than his leg. He sank one meaty hand around the handle while pointing a fat finger in our direction. "Kill them!!"

So much for diplomacy. Cards scattered like a flock of birds as the ape barreled over the crate and charged us on all fours like a runaway coach. Crono bounced forward, the Rainbow flying from its sheath with a sharp twang, and the Masamune was bared half a second later. I jumped off to the side, trying to settle a good angle for my gun, while Magus stood back and surveyed the room, one gloved fist clenched in front of him.

Crono and Frog stood off against the ape together, braced on each side of its charge, and when the beast drew close it reared up, swinging its massive, hairy arms over its head. Frog jumped and Crono rolled simultaneously, respective blades tearing through an arm and a leg, and the ape twisted on its last good foot with a dribbling shriek. Its blood drew a jagged ying-yang in the floor while its spittle shot straight into the air, only to be vaporized by the arc of lightning that Magus pitched at the naga-ette's head. The electric punch was like a bullet from God, blasting the serpent woman's brains out the back of her skull so fast and hard that she continued sliding forward for another three feet before it occurred to her nervous system that she was dead. She then toppled forward like a pile of pink sausage.

I would have been morbidly fascinated if I weren't busy taking shots at the gnashers that were zipping straight up to the shrine. _Pop pop pop_, pellets skirted their thick purple scales and made them dance ever closer. I made one flinch with a pop to the snout, but by that point I'd had enough. My dinky little air gun wasn't going to cut it.

A pair of fangs lapped at my toes and I skipped back, flinging fire off my arm. Both snakes skittered back at the hot splash and I lobbed another fireball after them, lighting their tails like candles. They squealed and squirmed in circles, trying to bat the fire out in a nearby puddle. Magic is awesome.

The Rainbow circled back, cutting another slice out of the ape's side, and that's when the ogan stepped up behind it, hurling his club at Crono's back. The Masamune deftly intercepted it, cleaving the slab of wood clean in half, and before the ogan could act stunned Frog rammed his shoulder into the brute's gut with enough force to knock both to the ground. Meanwhile Magus had the gargoyle's feet cemented to the floor with ice.

All that fuss must have been too much for the cave's other inhabitants, which came crashing down on us with their thrashing wings and beady eyes. There was something to add to the list of critters I can't stand, on top of spiders, rats and frogs: bats. I had never seen so many damn bats in my life, and I couldn't even begin to tell you what happened for the rest of the fight because I spent the whole time _freaking the hell out_. It was like standing in a cloud of tiny beating fists, some kind of massage from hell, and I ducked and yelled and swatted the things out of my hair and it was generally the worst thing ever.

Since running out of the cave at full tilt wasn't a good idea, my next reflex was to set every one of the bastards on fire--which probably wasn't any smarter, but I was pretty desperate. I at least had enough sense to aim the spell up instead of out towards my friends, and the small explosion mushroomed to the roof with a hollow gust that sucked half the air out of the room. The cave fell deaf for a delayed second, and then it started to rain charred bat, while the survivors flew outside like bats out of... okay, you get it.

I ruffled my hair to make sure one of the little sneaks wasn't still in there and then took stock of the cleared cave. In the middle of everything, Crono was standing upon the impaled corpse of the ape, looking around with a touch of wonder. Frog staggered away from the slain ogan, spotted the two gnashers streaking towards the exit and chopped off their heads with a cluck of distaste. Magus appeared as if he hadn't moved the whole time, although fifteen paces away there was a gargoyle in three frozen pieces.

And the floor was absolutely littered with twitching, crackling, crumpled bats. At last Frog commented ruefully, "'Twas fun, that." Crono chuckled and cleaned his blade on the ape's pelt. Geez, when did we become acclimatized to this sort of thing? I can't remember, except to blame Lavos.

"Dang it," I cursed as I tiptoed across the bat-field. "We could have asked one of them about the gates, you know."

"I don't think they were open for questions," Magus flatly remarked.

I laid eyes on the smoldering naga-ette, playing cards laying in a circle around her fallen form like a fortune-teller's ritual suicide. "Still, it's a shame..."

We left the cave to try and discover where--and when--we were, and the first thing to greet us was a blast of icy air. Over our heads was a slate-white sky, behind us were shelves of snow, and below were steep cliffs that tapered into peaked forests. It was a little disorienting to find ourselves so high up, but at the same time the mountain view was spectacular.

"Wow! Do you have any idea where this is?" I asked over the wind. In the great distance there was a valley dotted with smoke, but any settlement was impossible to identify.

Crono shrugged and nodded down a slope beaten out of the rocks. _Let's go find out._

It would take until noon to get down the mountain if we didn't waste time, so that's exactly what we didn't do. We were hardly halfway there, however, when something bounded up our way--something blonde, swathed in lilac furs and scaling the boulders off the side of our path as gracefully as a cougar. We held our ground, as cautious as we were curious, although when the figure skidded to a stop and peered up, it made an unmistakable image.

"Ayla?!"

Perhaps my memory had been too kind, but she was much more... rough than I remembered. The only places I could tell a healthy tan apart from a healthy layer of dirt was where old scars left pale stitches over her skin. Still, she was comely beyond any stereotypical picture of a cavewoman, and in mind of the colder climate she was wearing a ragged shawl over her usual bikini. Her wild hair thrashed about her face in the mountain gusts as she threw up her arms and beamed at us, obviously delighted.

"Crono! Lucca! Frog! Scary man! Ayla happy see all! You come see Ayla?"

I hardly got an "uhh..." past my lips when the woman hopped in place with a savage realization. "Must mean true! Gate here??"

"Yeah, we just came from the gate!" I replied. "What are you doing up here, Ayla?"

She shook her head and waved downhill, back the way she came. "No talk now, hurry! Everyone! Come to Ioka! Ayla caught one! Caught one good, make him talk! You all come, see!"

Before any of us could ask, she leapt off her boulder and sped away through the brush. I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted after her, "What?? Caught one _what_? Ayla...!"

It was no use; she was gone. That felt familiar. I spun around and checked my companions. Crono looked nonplussed, Magus seemed uninterested and Frog's head was tipped to an intrigued degree. "As spirited as ever, ist she not?"

I shrugged, exasperated, and motioned to follow her lead. "Well com'on!"

It was after lunchtime, but we finally made it down to the valley where Ayla's village was located. By then my right leg was killing me, and it took all my willpower not to limp behind the leader. It wasn't an ailment I wanted to explain to the others, and I definitely didn't want to show any sign of weakness in front of Magus, who was probably looking for a good excuse to rob me and dump my body on the side of the road. Crono or Frog better avenge my death, damnit--I _know_ the latter didn't need a better reason to run the Masamune so far up that miserable warlock's ass he choked on it.

…Anyway. Ioka Village hadn't drastically changed since our last visit. It was the same loose assembly of animal-skin huts on dirt and grass, although the scenery had slightly altered. The chill of Lavos' ice age was just setting in, for better or for worse, and though the temperature in the valley was mild compared to the mountain, much of the greenery had withered away. There was a stripped, winter-esque ambiance about the place that stood in contrast to the tropical summer I used to associate with Ioka.

The people we passed wore shaggy layers of clothes and regarded us with mixed looks of distrust and curiosity, yet a handful recognized us enough to wave. Ayla took it all in stride, and she spoke jovially as she led us through the village.

"Much happen while Crono gone! Cold times come, big game gone. Hunt many small animal instead!" She laughed heartily, apparently finding that funny.

I heard a faint peal of thunder and glanced to the sky, which looked a little heavier than before. Was it going to rain here, too? "What was it you wanted to show us, Ayla?" I eventually asked.

Her keen eyes lit up with pride and a hint of mischief. "You see! In chief's hut. Kino watch for me!"

Ayla's hut was only a little larger and more decorated than the others, just enough to stand out in a crowd. We filed through the flap of the doorway and drew in our surroundings. Dark, earthy tones were tinged with warm firelight from the spit in the corner, and great cat-skinned rugs were spread over the floor. It smelled like spiced meat, fresh dirt and old socks. The first thing I did was sit down and pretend not to nurse my sore leg.

Ayla's partner, a lanky blonde guy named Kino, was squatting on one of the rugs, and he sprang to his feet upon our entrance. "Ayla! Back already? Find thief on mountain?"

The woman shook her head and gestured towards us. "No. Better! Find Crono and friends!"

"C-Crono!?" Kino was outright perturbed by our appearance, which, if you'll excuse me, was a little hilarious. The guy never quit being jealous of Ayla's special time-traveling friends. Crono smirked and rolled his eyes, and I bit my lip to hold back a snigger.

There was a flash of movement and a grumble from the wooden support in the middle of the hut, and we all circled around to investigate. Ayla noticed our diverted attention and explained, "Last night, thief come, steal red rock from Ioka. Many run, but Ayla catch one before get away!"

"A Mystic?" Frog recognized the prisoner first. More specifically, it was a diablos, a stone-colored breed of gargoyle with a beak-like snout and stumpy wings. He was bound securely to the post with rope, and regarded us with weary disgust. His sharp, shadowed eyes fixed on Ayla as he spat, "What do you want, you human bitch?? I already told you everything I know. Why don't you go to the mountain and see for yourself?"

There was a sadistic ring to Magus's voice that I hadn't heard since we stormed Ozzie's Fort, three years before. "Oh, I don't believe you've told _everything_..."

The diablos jerked to face him so fast he could've snapped his neck. "You! You're...!" He gulped, terror dawning on his already ashen face. "No, you're dead, you can't be here."

I had no idea if this diablos had actually met Magus before, but the recognition was definitely there. Infamy could be a powerful tool, and I couldn't think of a man more infamous than Magus--a man directly associated with the Mystics, no less. I sat back and let him take charge of the interrogation that ensued--Frog and the others certainly weren't about to stop it.

It was apparently more fear than loyalty that inspired the diablos to kick and plead, "Let me go! I'll tell you anything, everything, I swear!"

Magus didn't fool around, and his tone booked no argument. "Tell us what you're doing here."

"We're on a mission. 'Operation Tritoch,' I think it's called. Our team leader, Darwin, he has your Dreamstone. He took it back to Lord Heckran."

"Lord Heckran?" Frog echoed, and then panned an inquisitive look around the room. The rest of us shrugged.

Magus frowned. "Never heard of him. Is he the one behind these new gates?"

"The gates are for us!" the diablos declared. "They take magic to work. Only a Mystic can open them."

"Really?" I spoke up. And here we had been forcing them open with the key. "Why is that?"

"It's so meddling humans like you don't interfere with Lord Heckran's plan!"

"What's he after?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the diablos boldly replied. "Death to the humans and glory to the Mystics! The war will finally end the way it was supposed to. Lord Heckran will see to that!"

Magus snorted. "You simpletons will never rule this world. Who really made those gates?"

He considered his answer carefully. "...There is someone else, but I don't know anything about 'im. I'm just a grunt; I swear they don't tell me anything. All I heard is a name: Ramezia."

"Ramezia?"

"Yeah. Like I said, I don't know anything, just that he's close to Lord Heckran. I heard he might be a powerful sorcerer, like the Magus! That's all I know, I swear!"

Just when I thought it wasn't possible, Magus frowned even deeper. "Ramezia... Never heard of him, either. 'Operation Tritoch,' is it? Tell us about it."

"The gates need magic, like I said. Powerful magic. The kind of magic you need a source of power for. That's why we're out to get us some magic stones. Darwin sent us to get the Dreamstone, and the rest went into Guardia to loot the castle vault. Supposed to be some real nice magic stones there. Lord Heckran says once we get the stones, we'll have a weapon that'll wipe out the humans for good."

I jumped up, alarmed. "Guardia castle?? When?!"

"Last night. We all set out at the same time."

I was about to smack this guy. "I said _when!?_"

The diablos flinched. "Er, our home time! The eleventh century."

"Is that where the Dreamstone's being taken? To your base?"

"Yes--er, no. Not exactly. I don't know."

"You're lying," Magus called him out.

The diablos started to squirm in panic. "No, I'm not! Our base is in the Heckran Caves, but I don't know where they're keeping the stones, I really don't. I think that's Ramezia's gig. You'd have to ask Lord Heckran yourself--or Darwin, but you'll never catch him! He's an akio, the fastest and the best. He knows every outlaw trick in the book."

Akios were those birdmen that tried to stop us from finding the Masamune in the Denadoro Mountains. They were pretty quick and stealthy; that much wasn't a lie.

Considering my home time, I got struck with an idea. I whipped out my notebook and approached the diablos with the page open to the gate diagram. "One more question: which one will take us to the eleventh century?"

The diablos looked around shiftily, hesitating, and then pecked one of the symbols with the tip of his nose. "That one. Fire is the Truce Canyon gate."

"Fire, eh...?" I took my pencil and made a note. "And where do the others go?"

"Psh, I don't know--they only told me how to get home! Said not to touch the others. Darwin said we'd get killed if we used the wrong one."

That was interesting... Did he mean he would get punished for stepping out of line, or that those other gates led into danger? "What do you mean?"

He sputtered. "I don't know! I didn't want to die to find out, okay?? I just do what I'm told."

"Is that all?" Magus asked, impatience creeping into his tone.

"Yes, yes I've told you everything," the diablos answered breathlessly. "I kept my end. Let me go, take me with you, hold me hostage, whatever you want! Just please don't--"

I'd never seen anything like it--there wasn't a trickle of wind, a trill whistle, a static charge or anything that usually accompanied magic. The diablos's head simply _exploded_. It was like watching a melon spontaneously combust, pulpy gore and ripe skull fragments splattering in all directions. Frog croaked like a trumpet, Kino squealed like a girl and we all jumped back, bewildered--except for Magus, who stoically examined the carnage.

The black voice in my head started laughing uproariously. Crono gaped at the remains of our prisoner, which sagged against the ropes like a bleeding sack of grain. It took me a second to catch my wits and shoot the wizard an inflamed glare. "What the hell!?"

Ayla bared her fists. "Why Magus do that?!"

Magus faced us with the most deprecative apology ever. "I'm sorry, did you want to send him back to our enemies to tell on us?"

"Well, no," I conceded. "But that was really... cruel!"

"He died quick. I think it was quite humane."

"You are a _bastard_," I said with a note of finality that left an excellent opening to change the subject.

Frog cleared his throat. "What this Mystic spoke of could pose a true threat. If these are enemies of humanity just as the Mystics of my time, Guardia Castle in thy time might be under seige as we speak."

There was a portentous pause, and then Crono bolted out the door. I knew what he was thinking--he was wondering if Marle was all right. I was worried, too. I tried to catch up, but it was Ayla who stopped him first, pulling ahead of his path.

"Crono, wait! Go to castle, yes? Take Ayla with you. Ayla want help, fight Mystics, take back red rock!"

Take on board the most powerful warrior this side of prehistory? Crono didn't even have to think about it. He nodded.

Kino then burst from the hut with a flail of protest. "But Ayla...!"

She whirled to him. "Kino! You chief again while Ayla gone."

He hung his head dejectedly. "But, Kino want stay with Ayla..."

"No!" she shot him down. There was no doubt who wore the pants in _this_ relationship. "Kino need be chief. Ayla trust Kino best. Kino do good job chief for Ayla?"

The flattery seemed to mollify him. "Oh... okay. Kino do best. Ayla come back soon!"

"Hang on, I'll make this simple..." Magus offered, surprising us. He held up one hand, fingers splayed strangely, and by the time I noticed he was muttering an incantation into his cloak, there was a flash of blinding white light and a paralyzing jolt, like getting punched in the gut and kicked in the head at the same time. I saw stars for a moment, and then a cold rock floor, rushing up to meet me. I threw out my hands and fell to my knees just in time, embracing the ground. When my vision finally cleared, I was staring directly at the gnarled, grotesquely fuzzy, claw-tipped remains of a... bat.

I yelped and flew back, falling hard on my butt--and another damn dead bat. When I looked around, they were everywhere, and it didn't take another second to recognize where we were and how we got there.

Frog figured it out just as quickly, and he clambered to his feet with a scowl aimed directly at Magus. "Some advanced warning wouldst have been kind!"

The wizard shrugged off the wispy vestiges of his teleportation magic. "I said 'hang on.' What more did you want?"

Ayla began sniffing around the cavern like an excited dog. "Where this?? What happen? Dead monsters, so many!" She stopped before the slain ape, prodding its sword-rented hide with a strange brand of appreciation and understanding. "Crono do this?"

Before any of our party could answer, she sprang up to the gate shrine. "This gate?? So big! Look different, not like others!" She spun around and faced us, hands propped on her hips with an air of open fascination that was almost a challenge. "We take?"

"Aye," Frog confirmed, if somewhat less eager. "We should hasten to Crono's time, before 'tis too late."

"Right, right..." I muttered, again navigating the bat-riddled floor as if it were a minefield. I skipped up the steps to the gate rings and then pulled out my notebook, which now had a tasteful streak of blood across the most recent page. Great.

"Okay, so fire is the Truce Canyon gate, he said..." I took the inner ring and turned it so that the symbol fit the top notch just as the diablos indicated. "That's it, I guess... Is everyone ready?"

Crono nodded, and I saw his fingers twitching around the hilt of his sword. He was anxious, I could tell, and I didn't want to mention that if what the diablos said was true about their operations running simultaneously, we were probably already too late. I had to hope that the castle guard, with their years of training, experience and dragon tank technology, wouldn't be easily compromised by some rogue band of Mystics.

...Crap, they were screwed.

Well, at least Marle would be there to handle it, although I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, as far as consoling Crono. He could be pretty protective, and it's not like I wanted to see anything bad happen to her, either, but...

I shook myself back to the present and took out the Gate Key. For once, it was better to hurry now and think later.

* * *

A/N: I've been asked if this story will tie in to Chrono Cross, and the answer is no. My Phoenix Chronicles doesn't have room for THAT much insanity (or at least, any more insanity than my own.)

*rubs hands together* Booyah, some of my favorite chapters are comin' up. Next time: The Booger Brigade.


	7. The Booger Brigade

**7. The Booger Brigade**

The diablos didn't feed us any false information as far as the gate was concerned, and we all arrived in Truce Canyon in one piece. It was just the same as we left it, stormy weather and all--which was actually more disconcerting than reassuring. Another day of rainfall had filled the canyon's trenches with mud that gushed like deadly rapids.

"Geez, does it ever stop?" I asked the sky, though the heavens' only response was to drench me. Frog blinked heavily under the onslaught, and Ayla perched on a grassy knoll, looking over the water-ravaged landscape with interest.

"Nasty weather! Been rain long time?"

"Over two days straight, now," I noted. Crono frowned into a churning ravine and stepped back from its slippery ledge. I looked over my shoulder at Magus, who was staring back into the cave we just left like a hawk into a mouse's burrow.

"What is it?" I called to him. "Do you see something?"

After a protracted moment, he whipped back around and answered curtly, "No."

I briefly wondered if Magus was going to offer another teleportation spell to get us to the castle instantly, but I knew better than to expect a miracle, and so did Crono. He headed out towards Leene Square, waving for us to follow. It was going to be a long trek in the rain, but I took consolation with the opportunity to ask some important questions.

"Ayla, when the Mystics came to your village last night, did anyone get hurt or killed?"

Ayla scanned the clouds thoughtfully as she walked. "No, no one hurt. Good thing, yes?"

"Huh." I mulled that over. "I wonder if someone was being careful..."

"What you mean?"

"You wonder if this villain didn't wish to upset the history of man?"

I liked Frog; he was always on top of things. "Bingo. I think whoever's behind this was worried about creating a paradox."

"'Twould certainly indicate we'rt dealing with more than a mere rabble of Mystics," he said sombrely.

Magus harrumphed at the back of the line. "Mystics, humans--they're all like sheep. They won't act without a leader."

I rolled my eyes. "Somebody's cynical..."

Frog tipped his head with a shrug. "There be a point, though. If we put a stop to this Heckran, these aggressions might cease."

It made enough sense to me. "And find out where these gates came from, hopefully."

Leene Square was deserted, and with good reason. The gutters and fountains were overflowing, and every corner was absolutely flooded. We were treading at least an inch of water at all times, and the stone steps dividing the plaza ran like miniature waterfalls. Eventually we hit the cobbled streets of Truce, where most people were going about their business as usual in the freak weather. Tarp-covered carts and the occasional buggy would rattle by, the horses busily shaking the raindrops off their brows. Every once in a while thunder would spark a chorus of neighs and dog barks across town.

We were plodding through the business district when we spotted her. She was standing alone on the sidewalk with an obviously lost bearing, wearing a white hooded parka trimmed with pink triangles. Her searching eyes flew around the intersection before landing on our party. "Crono!?"

Crono lit up like a foxhound and sprinted across the road, meeting her in the middle. The girl jumped into his arms and swung around with a giddy squeal, her hood slipping down to reveal a strawberry blonde ponytail and a familiar, exuberant smile. "Eeee! Crono! I was looking all over for you!"

I skipped over to share the welcome. "Marle! You're all right!"

The happy relief on Crono's face said it all. Marle pounced on me next--I got a whiff of some washed-out orange perfume. "Lucca! I'm so glad I found you guys!"

The others caught up with us then, and Marle went through an almost comical chain of reactions, from shock to joy to confusion. "Ohmygosh! Frog?! Ayla! Magus too! I can't believe it! What're you all doing here??"

Magus kept his cold and casual distance, Frog bowed before her with a formal flair and quirky, amphibious grin, and the taller blonde scooped her great-great-great-great descendant into the grandmother of all bear hugs. Marle squealed again, reveling in all the friendly attention.

"Marle! Ayla happy see safe! Still so small, though." When Ayla finally let her loose, Marle was bouncing on her toes.

"Haha, no way! Seriously though, what's going on? How'd you all get here?"

Crono scratched his head with an addled grimace and Frog gave a non-committal croak. I spoke up. "It's kinda a long story. We came back because we heard Guardia Castle might be under attack!"

Once reminded of home, her hands flew to her mouth with a gasp of horror. "Oh, you guys! It was awful!"

Crono snapped to her side in a heartbeat, fretting over the watery crease on the princess's face. "So it's true?!" I pressed. "Is everyone okay? What about your dad?"

"Daddy's all right, thank goodness, but Alsten..." She sniffed and wiped the corners of her eyes.

"Captain Alsten?" I recognized the name. Alsten was the castle's most stalwart defender, and a pretty nice guy in general, from my few impressions. I knew he was dedicated to Princess Nadia's protection, and Crono had a lot of respect for his swordsmanship--even if they never agreed on the princess's curfew. "What happened?"

Marle then lashed out, arms slashing through the air at long-past foes. "It was terrible! They killed him! He was trying to stop them from storming into the castle, and they just killed him in cold blood!"

Crono started. _What?!_ "You can't be serious!" I exclaimed.

Frog stepped forward, broad lips and wide brow grimly set. "'Twas the Mystics?"

Marle was taken aback. "How did you know??"

"Yeah, about that long story..." I began, but Frog had a better idea. "Perhaps we should sit down someplace dry to discuss matters?"

"Oh!" Marle lightened with the notion. "Can we go eat lunch at Rick's? I ran all this way, and I didn't even stop for breakfast!"

I was hungry, that's for sure, and Crono and Ayla were the last two people on the planet to need persuasion to stop and eat. "That sounds like a great idea, no joke," I said.

"Lunch? Ayla like! Try good tomorrow food! Ayla suddenly want oranges."

We walked and talked some more, although it was tough to get over the loss of Alsten. Him and ten other guards fell that night, allegedly. We all wanted to hear more, but Marle wasn't ready to recount everything just yet, so we gave her a little space as we made our way down to Rick's Cafe on the pier.

At one point, she peered at Crono and said guilelessly, "I hope I didn't get you into trouble. When I went to your house to see if you were there, your mom said you were supposed to be with me at the castle."

Crono simply shrugged. _She'll deal with it._ Hell, we were eighteen years old, for crap's sake. What was Crono's mom going to do for catching him in a fib, _ground him_? We weren't kids anymore.

Of course, a princess's leash was supposed to be a little shorter, so I had to ask, "How did you get out of the castle, anyway? I wouldn't think your dad would want you to leave after what happened."

Marle flicked her wrist and huffed, "Of course not! Daddy never wants me to go out when we _aren't_ under attack. I snuck out the same way I always do. It was a little harder this time since there were guards outside my door, but once I was in the courtyard it was easy."

I was impressed, but not really surprised. Marle was always crafty in a very reckless, impetuous way that must have endeared her to Crono all the more. "You're quite the escape artist, aren't you, princess?" I ribbed, and Crono confirmed my suspicion by grinning with perverse pride. _That's my girl._

"Hehe, yep! I think my physical education instructor would be proud."

Rick's wasn't the nicest diner in town, but it was a good place to grab a sandwich and a cup of coffee, or to just chill out for a while. Apparently we weren't the only ones with that idea, and as we neared the shoddy wooden storefront, Marle pointed out the four young men slouching against the wall by the dumpster. "Hey Crono, aren't those your friends?"

Oh, hell.

It was Haru, Charlie, Gary and Liquel, a regular pack of shiftless bums and dumbasses who had taken to dealing drugs on the street because... I've mentally blocked the reason out, it was that stupid (it made even less sense for Haru and Charlie, since their dad was the chief of police.) We all went through grade school together--these guys, Crono and I--and while their antics were often hilarious, I couldn't stand them, and the feeling was mutual. Half of my bad rap around Truce was owed to these losers, and the only reason I was civil towards them--and vice-versa--was because of Crono.

I must have made some disgruntled noise that Crono overheard, because he gave me a patronizing pat on the head before approaching them. _Be good._

"Whatever..." I grumbled, blinking back a rush of dizziness, and followed into their circle. Ayla immediately broke away to chase a flock of seagulls.

Liquel was a little guy with too much spunk for his own good. He had a clipped accent from the east side of Choras that made him sound at turns exotic and ridiculous, especially when he swore--which was practically every fifth word out of his mouth. He wheeled out from under the store's eaves with an exaggerated stride and started pitching, "Hey mofos, what'chyou--"

Haru sharply reeled him back. "It's not a customer, stupid, it's Crono." He tipped a nod towards us, lazy yet affable. "'sup, man."

Crono passed him a low-five. _'sup._

Charlie noticed Crono's fairer companion right away. He winked, trying to act smooth and failing miserably. "Hey Marle."

Sometime I'm glad I'm not attractive; I wouldn't know how to put up with crap like that. Marle seemed to take it all in stride, almost like she enjoyed it. I guess it would be kind of flattering, in a really obnoxious way. Marle leaned suggestively on Crono's arm--her little foot stuck up in the air, all cute and everything--and returned the gesture with the most sultry voice she could muster. "Hey, Charlie." Then, as if she couldn't hold the joke in any longer, she broke into giggles. Charlie turned red and Crono rolled his eyes.

Gary sneered at me and steepled his hands to make a broken 'time out.' "Hey Booger, crash any more attics lately?" The others cracked up in snickers.

Gary was a punk. Half of everything he said was punctuated with lame, misplaced and over-the-top hand signs. He kept saying it made him look 'street,' whatever that means (I think it's code for 'moronic'.) I'm sure he picked up the habit from Crono, except Crono knows how to be artful and concise about it, and Gary just leaves people guessing, like watching an epileptic rapper play charades.

At any rate, I normally didn't care about their jeering, but it was a little embarrassing in front of Marle and the others. "Damnit guys, my name isn't Booger," I said petulantly.

Gary wouldn't let it drop. "So did Mister Varg shit a brick when he saw his new skylight? I bet your old man's gonna be paying for that 'til Pumpkinfest."

Crono threw them a placating shrug. _Lay off, it was an accident._

Sort of. I swear I didn't think a fifty-pound wagon outfitted with sled runners would be able to achieve lift with only five bottles of hydraulic propulsion. It must've been the damn rock salt. It was supposed to go _forward_, not _up_. Mister Varg's roof just happened to be in the falling trajectory.

"Hey hey, don't defend her, Crono," Haru peevishly jumped in, banding against me as usual. For the record, it was Crono's idea to tie the bottles to the runners. _He_ never lands the blame for these things, the lucky bastard.

Gary looked over our rag-tag group with bemusement. "Yeah geez, what is this anyway, the Booger Brigade? What's with the frog costume?" He pointed a look at Magus, who was staring out past the docks and doubtlessly pretending we didn't exist. "And what's he supposed to be, some kind of vampire?"

"'Tis not a..." Frog started to speak, plucking at the brim of his cloak, but then changed his mind. Sometimes it was wiser not to correct people. "...Ne'er mind."

Gary bumped his knuckles together and clucked, "Whatever. So you guys hear about the shit that hit the fan last night?"

Crono shook his head, uncertain and unwilling to say too much. _No, what?_

"Shit man," Liquel reproached him. "What're you, deaf now, too? That's what you'd have to be to not've heard."

"Guardia Castle was attacked last night," Charlie put it bluntly.

"Yeah yeah man," Liquel parroted with a little more excitement than was tasteful. "I heard it was Mystics."

As a credit to Marle's acting skills, she seemed appropriately oblivious. "Wow, news travels fast, doesn't it?"

Haru smirked. "That's what you hear on the street. The castle's all shut up about it, like always."

Liquel shuffled in place anxiously. "So you mofos buyin' today or what? I got the shittin' rain dance over here."

I threw him a dirty look. "Why haven't you morons been caught yet?"

Charlie rolled his shoulders against the wall and grinned roguishly. "Because we're just that cool. It's all about the image, man. If we look like we're chillin' here, it's not hurtin' nobody."

"Loitering is a crime too, you know," I quipped.

Gary flashed some absurdly aggressive thumb-jerk. "Hey Booger, who has two thumbs and doesn't give a fuck?"

"What?" I gaped at his nonsense. These guys were the most ludicrous wannabe gangsters ever.

Haru followed up Gary's weird and vague threat. "Yeah, what're you gonna do? Call the Munic down on us?"

"The Munic couldn't come down on a toilet if he had the shits," Liquel remarked.

Frog's curiosity evidently made him bold enough to enter the circle. "I'rt afraid I don't understand. What are thine wares?"

"Wares?" With a strangled, bird-like caw Ayla dropped in from the roof, as if she had just hitched a ride on one of those gulls. We all recoiled with soft curses at her frenzied appearance. "What those, things for eat? Ayla want try!"

While the others were just recovering, Liquel took a cue. "Hey chicka, what'chyou need? I got--"

Crono barred both Ayla and Frog with an arm and shook his head insistently. _You don't want any._

Charlie tried out his routine on Ayla, next. "Hey chicka."

Ayla merely blinked at him. "What you say? Chick? Like bird? For eat?" Marle tried to mask another giggle with her hand.

"_Any_way..." Gary stuck a thumb at Charlie. "We were just talking about how pool boy here knocked up his mom."

Charlie flushed again, sputtering. "I did not!"

Haru explained for everyone's, uh, benefit, "He rubbed one out in our swimming pool right before mom got in."

Liquel shook his head with disgust. "You sick fuck."

Charlie's face fell into his hands. "Geez, why did I ever tell you guys about that?"

"That's what I've been wondering for the longest time, man," Gary said.

I couldn't believe my ears. "You did _what_? In your pool? In front of your mom? Geez, that's _really_ classy."

"Too classy for you, Booger Lane," Gary didn't miss a beat. "I bet if you saw Charlie's mom you'd be lapping up her pool water like a dog at the toilet." He crudely wagged his tongue at me to illustrate.

I glared back, remembering exactly why I couldn't stand these jokers--the bisexual jabs were getting _really_ old. I am plenty straight, thanks.

Marle cringed slightly once she caught the drift. "Ewww... What is wrong with you guys?"

Liquel shrank away from the group in some last-ditch attempt to preserve his shame. "Fuck you guys, don't lump me in this queer rim job pool party!"

Haru likewise pleaded innocent. "Yeah, I wasn't the one who jerked it in mom's pool!"

"She wasn't there!!" Charlie desperately wailed.

"No, she just walked in right after!" Haru riposted. Charlie swatted at his little brother. "You're not helping, man!"

I sighed. "_Please_. And you think your mom magically got impregnated by _pool water_?"

Gary held up one hand in defense of the argument. "I was just saying, it's possible! I read in a book that sperm can survive for like, an hour if it's not dried out. If the jizz is fresh, and it's in a body of water--"

"No, no no no!" Charlie panicked, and Haru started cackling, delighting in his own family's incestuous misery.

"No it isn't, you huge gaping retard," I snapped. I couldn't believe I was entertaining this conversation. Something about these guys always made me stoop to their level. "You are aware there are muscles down there, right? Not that any of you sad sacks have ever been close enough to an actual woman to know, but it takes penetrating force to get semen into the vagina, and then it takes the neutralizing chemical found in semen--which would dissolve instantly in a sixteen-thousand gallon swimming pool, by the way--to keep the acidic properties of the vaginal wall from killing any sperm cells that made it that far. And that's not even talking about whatever the hell kinds of salt and chemicals you put into your pool to keep it clean to start with, so even if your mom jumped into the pool after your nasty spunk with a damn funnel shoved up her cooter, she'd have a better chance of hitting a duck on the moon with birdshot than of getting pregnant."

The gang gawked at me with a funny mix of indignation and bewilderment. Frog's eyes went wide, though void of comment, and Ayla's face was screwed up with mild confusion that ended in a shrug--she was used to things I say going over her head. At least Marle looked tickled, with her cheeks bunched up, her eyes twinkling and her lips pursed with barely-suppressed mirth. Meanwhile Crono was looking at me with this strangely abashed expression, like _I_ was the one who just knocked up Charlie's mom in the pool--or didn't, rather. What did _he_ have to be ashamed about?

Charlie deflated with relief and punched Gary in the arm. "See? Man! I told you guys."

Haru shook his head, miffed. "Damnit, Booger, whys you always have to ruin everything?"

That's the Power of Science: ruining everyone's fun since the dawn of history--everyone _else's_ fun, that is (hah!) I could have said so, but then Gary flung his arms in a small tantrum that rounded off with flipping me the finger. "Yeah shut up Booger, nobody even asked you!"

Liquel sniggered. "Haha yeah, big surprise a mechanodyke like Booger's an expert on cooters, am I right?"

This won a high-five from Gary. "Yeah Boogs, yours is probably wound up so tight you could pop a cork off in it."

I caught Marle stifling a sob of laughter and turned away, muttering bitterly, "Whatever. Are we going to eat lunch or what, Crono?"

As we filed into the diner, Crono smacked me gently upside the head. _I thought I told you to be good._ I turned to counter with something along the lines of, 'those guys were the stupid jerks first,' but then I saw him biting back a grin of his own. I wouldn't get him to admit it because he liked to act cool with those guys, but secretly I think he approved.

The most satisfaction I got out of the encounter was overhearing Liquel whisper fearfully as we left, "...There's really no such thing as hoochie acid, is there?"

The barkeep waved us in, recognizing Crono and Marle, and we took up a table and booth in the corner of the diner. We had to lure Ayla away from the fish tank by the window ("What? Those not for eat, either?") and Magus refused to part from the doorpost, but otherwise we were situated comfortably and waiting for a round of sandwiches when Frog enquired, wholly out of the blue and with the most innocent intentions, "Pardon my asking, but... what did that boy mean, to 'shit a brick'?"

That's when Marle lost it. It was that awful, lung-sucking, contagious sort of laughter, too, so pretty soon each one of us was infected. Even Frog started chuckling, once Marle apologized between gasping fits. Magus was the only one who didn't partake of our insanity, and for the disdainful look he was shooting us from the door, I wanted to laugh in his face and tell him to go to hell.

Eventually Marle composed herself, more-or-less, and finished with a titter. "Hehe, those guys are always so funny."

Ayla agreed. "All you tomorrow people funny! Good people, Ayla like."

Marle then looked at me with a horribly amused expression. "So why do they call you Booger, anyway?"

There's a good story behind that. And I'm taking it to my grave. I was about to take to Crono's grave as well, once he beamed maliciously and began to gesticulate. _Because--_

I snared his wrist in a vice-grip and said in the most lethal tone I could muster, "_Tell them and I'll break your damn arm._"

Marle might've laughed herself to death if the sandwiches didn't show up. Once we had our fill, she sighed and said sincerely, "Thanks guys, really, for taking me to lunch. I needed to clear my head, after everything that's happened."

Crono nodded sympathetically. _Of course._ And to think, he was the one paying the tab. (What? I was broke. You think inventing is a lucrative business?)

It was Ayla who turned serious and got to the heart of it, first. "So what happen?"

The princess drew a deep breath, folded her hands in her lap and began. "Like I said, the Mystics came last night. There weren't a whole lot of them, but a big group tried to break down the front gates by force. Alsten and his guards started to fight them off, but it turns out it was just a diversion. I was with my dad in the throne room when I heard that another group of Mystics had broken into the vault. That's when I took off downstairs, trying to stop them. Daddy was yelling at me to stay back, but I couldn't sit around and do nothing, right?"

"Did you make it into the vault?" I wondered, intrigued.

Marle nodded. "You wouldn't believe it--they were coming out of a huge hole in the floor!"

"A hole? In the _floor_?" I was incredulous.

"That must have taken quite the time and effort," Frog postulated.

"I know, right? Daddy thinks it must've taken weeks to dig that tunnel, because it leads all the way into the moat. I mean, half of it was filled with water--there's no way we would have noticed it before."

"How many were there?"

Marle's gaze floated among the flies on the ceiling as she counted in her head. "There was a really big blue guy with a bird guy, and about six henches. The henches were all carrying the Rainbow Shell out through the tunnel! The big blue guy was their leader, I could tell, because he was shouting orders."

I started making the connection. "Was this big blue guy a heckran?"

She snapped her fingers with a spark of recognition. "Yes! That's right, a heckran. I couldn't remember. Anyway, once they saw me barge in they all stopped. Since there were so many, I was going to use my magic to freeze them, but before I could get the spell off, that bird man threw a smoke bomb at me. Like some kind of... ninja!" She frowned severely at her napkin. "I didn't like his tone at all. He said something like, 'our regards from the lady.' I wanted to chase them but I couldn't see anything from all the smoke. Then there was a huge crash, like an explosion or something, and by the time everything cleared up, they were gone. They collapsed the tunnel behind them so we couldn't follow."

"And the Rainbow Shell wast taken?" Frog asked.

Marle nodded, her head bowed and her countenance brimming with remorse. "I'm sorry, guys... I tried my best to stop them, but..."

Crono patted her arm consolingly while Ayla piped up, "Is okay. Marle try hard, do good! Mystics bad guys, steal from Ioka _and_ Guardia."

"Yeah, I can't believe they orchestrated something this elaborate through the gates," I concurred. "Magus is right; it can't just be the Mystics. There's something big behind this--someone who really knows what they're doing."

"Ramezia, mayhaps?" Frog suggested. He glanced to Marle. "Didst not one of them mention a lady?"

Marle nodded. "I believe so. Why, does it help?"

I scratched my head, puzzled. "Not really... We still don't know enough. I actually can't stop thinking about what happened in Ayla's village. It's like, the same person who ordered the attack on the castle in our time and killed all those guards didn't want to hurt a single soul from Ioka. I mean sure, it could just be to prevent some kind of backlash in history, but what if it's something more? What if the human race was preserved intentionally? Perhaps this person is even a human himself."

"A human in charge of Mystics attacking other humans?" Marle echoed, and in tandem so precise it was almost hilarious, we all looked at Magus.

The dark wizard stepped off the doorframe, shoulders squared and sharp nose lowered dangerously. "...Am I being accused of something?"

"Well..." Frog drawled, his point lingering thickly on his tongue. If I can say anything about Frog, it's that he's a saint for ever putting up with Magus at all. If any one man bore the brunt of Magus's crimes against humanity, it was poor Glenn, and he had every reason to settle the score with Magus at the first opportunity.

Strangely enough, that's not what happened--instead the two developed a threadbare truce over the duration of our quest to stop Lavos, and then went their separate ways, Frog playing the merciful knight card. I'm not entirely sure what kept them from going at each other's throats now, unless there was a particular code of chivalry and/or evil wizardry that I was missing. Maybe Magus was too lazy--maybe Frog honestly didn't have a vindictive bone in his (somewhat rubbery) body--or maybe they were only waiting for the perfect moment.

All I could do was stall that moment as long as possible; we needed both of them intact to move on with our new adventure. "No," I hastily corrected. "You just illustrate the point that anything's possible."

Magus snorted. "I didn't have anything to do with this. Like I even care."

"Then why art thou here?" Frog asked scathingly.

There was a ponderous silence, and before Magus could shoot lasers out of his eyes or something, Marle picked up my slack, speaking quickly, "Anyway I don't know, Lucca. I think whoever was behind this was just being careful. Why create a paradox, like you said, if you can avoid it? Whoever this is wants the present intact, just the way it is."

"I guess..." I sighed, leaning over the table and onto my elbows. "I hate that it's all happening like this. I keep feeling like we just missed the boat. ...I'm really sorry about Captain Alsten, Marle," I added, for what my impotent condolences were worth.

"Ayla sorry, too." She banged a fist on the countertop, making a saucer jump. "Ayla make Mystics pay for Marle!"

Marle shook her head gently, and then said with her own strange, benevolent brand of insight, "It's okay. We shouldn't hate the Mystics. Not all of them are bad, you know? I just want to figure out what's going on, like you guys." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, soft eyes alight with a stray thought. "You know what else is really weird, though? Down in the vault, before they noticed me there, I overheard one of them say they got the Sun Stone." She gave a witless shrug. "I didn't even know we had it at the castle. I thought it was at your house, Lucca?"

The memory of Magus poking into a sunlight chest darted through my mind. Yes, it was. In the attic. In my house. And the Mystics had found it. Mystics--real "death to all humans," old-school, warmongering Mystics--in my attic, in my house.

With my _parents_.

Everything ran cold. Magus just stared at me, almost daring to smirk. He knew, and Crono knew too, because there was a wide flash of panic in his eyes that couldn't mean anything but _Oh, shit._

I didn't even stop to think--I got up and ran.

* * *

A/N: Way to go, frat boy humor. I'm never going to grow up, I swear.

I'm going light on Frog's cheesy medieval accent because it's, uh... lame? And kinda hard to maintain. And it doesn't really let Frog's character shine through; it just makes him seem stiff and formal. But that's just my opinion--I welcome others!


	8. Silent Rain

**8. Silent Rain**

I never ran that hard in my life.

It was still raining like the end of the world, little blurry drops kept sticking to my glasses, and I nearly took a dive off the slick sidewalk five or six times, but I didn't even think about slowing down until I was out of town. My feet hammered the puddles and skipped across the boards of the wooden bridge leading to my home island, and by the time I reached the other side it hit me: _Operation __**Tri**__toch_. I was such an idiot.

So, they were after Dreamstone, the Rainbow Shell and the Sun Stone. How did the Mystics know where to find it? It wasn't an advertised fact that my dad was keeping the Sun Stone. The only people from my time that would have known, really, were Crono, Marle, Melchior and a few castle authorities, including the king. Then again, that's a lot of people to squeeze information from, and I hated to imagine the process.

My mind wasn't exactly full of positive mental images at the moment, anyway. I thought about the dead of night, when my parents would be tucked in bed--maybe my mom with a lamp burning late over a good book--taken utterly off guard by monsters pounding down the door or crashing through the windows. I thought about the rifle my dad kept in the corner of their bedroom, behind the dresser--the one he shot the dog with. I wondered if he would have even made it to the bottom of the stairs with it before they reached him first. I wondered if he would have had time to get off more than one shot before...

Or maybe the Mystics went straight for the attic. My mom would ask my dad to go see what the strange thumping noises were, and then...

When I paused to catch my breath, leaning on my knees even as they shook with exertion, I spotted the others closing in, not too far behind. Good, I thought, I could use the support. If there were any Mystics around, I might need some backup. Then again, I thought with a flush of rage, if I found any Mystics still mucking around my house, _they_ were the ones going to need backup, not me.

I was standing where the gravel path bottlenecked through some tall grass--this was where that snake bit me three years ago, I recalled, apropos of nothing. I almost mistook him for the black voice, but I actually heard Magus remark as he drew closer, "As if they'll be any less dead if she runs faster."

Fucking asshole.

I glimpsed a scolding look from Marle, but didn't wait to hear whatever she dealt him; I just kept running. I thought I heard laughter, but it was too close and quiet to be anything but another trick of my mind. I rounded the corner of my house and flew up the front steps.

There were things I should have noticed right away--the door was hanging open, it was too dark inside, and there was a damp stench not unlike the one in the Magic Cave--but the first thing to strike me was the silence. Thick, uncompromising silence, the kind you could drown in. I couldn't even hear the rain.

It was like stepping into a dark theater; I hung around the threshold of the den for a minute, gathering my senses. I then waded through the sleeping bedlam, past books and tools that hadn't rested on their proper shelves for years. My mother's voice played through my head like a phantom phonograph, yelling for me and Dad to, "turn off that contraption and clean up this forsaken mess!" I entered the hallway and fixated on a shattered picture frame on the floor--it was my late Aunt Marcy's. I don't know what possessed me to hang it back up. There was a lifeless normalcy about the place that made me think someone had dropped a Time Egg, but then a spot of lightning touched the wall, and I saw everything.

Splattered, smeared, scuffed, blotted, tracked in exotic footprints up and down the stairs, through the kitchen and across the hall--mud and blood, lots of it. There was a thick smudge running out through the den, as if something heavy was dragged that way. Then I noticed a broken step leading up to my room. I sped upstairs and found a wreck, every single drawer pulled out and every flask smashed. One of them contained enough nitric acid to leave a shoe-sized, smoldering stain on the hardwood floor. There was a lump of coal on my desk next to Alfador's upturned cage. It was fuzzy and scorched black.

The sick sons of bitches killed my hamster. I was too shocked to wonder why. I raced back the other way, down my stairs and up towards my parents' room, although I never made it three feet past the door.

There isn't a way to share what it's truly like to find your parents murdered--it's just one of those things you hope to never experience for yourself. There are old accounts from the Mystic War that describe such events in gruesome detail, with whole families getting chopped into pieces over the dinner table by henches' axes, but it's always one thing to read about a casualty of war and another to see it in person. I should have been repulsed, outraged or... something, but all I could do was stop and survey the scene with an eerie sense of detachment that not even the thunder could dispel.

I almost had to hand it to the culprits--their work was quick, yet creative. My mother was hoisted off the bed and run through the middle with a pitchfork I didn't know we owned. She was left stapled to the wall like a game trophy, legs dangling uselessly to the floor, eyes glassy and bulging. I couldn't even see my dad's face; he was hunched over a puddle of gore, his shoulders wedged between the bed and the table as if his head had fallen through the gap, although the head-shaped mound planted in the flower pot across the room spoke otherwise. I found his rifle in the middle of the floor, but I'd never be able to determine how many shots it fired before something snapped it into three pieces, as if the cast iron barrel were as brittle as a candy bar.

I didn't know what to do. I was feeling a little woozy; I'm surprised I didn't throw up or pass out. Instead I turned and walked back downstairs. Marle was the first one there, waiting for me. She got a whiff of the murky air and then covered her mouth with a gasp. "Oh my God... What happened?" She looked at me, eyes wide with concern. "Is everything okay?"

I can't remember answering her. Maybe I shook my head. She began looking around just as Crono and Ayla barged in and started to do the same. I simply wilted against the doorpost, completely drained. My mind was sublimely blank--I could see and hear everything around me with crystal clarity; I just couldn't move or think.

Ayla scrambled with her nose to the ground like a bloodhound. "Bad smell! Mystics!" she barked. Frog sidled past me, treading cautiously through the den, and Magus followed. I watched him glide straight through the air and up through the open hatch of the attic. There were muffled footsteps all around and above, and then Marle's shriek of horror. "Oh my God...!!"

She fled back downstairs and into Crono's embrace, babbling softly into his shoulder. Frog shook his head with a low croak, standing back and refusing to snoop. Magus shortly reappeared on my balcony to announce the obvious. "The Sun Stone is gone."

At that, Crono broke away and punched the kitchen door so hard a piece of the frame splintered off and the dishes in the kitchen rattled. The whole house was jarred to silence. I think everyone stopped and stared at him, because then he grew self-conscious and stormed out. As he brushed by me I shivered--he carried an aura of rage that was palpably _cold_.

Marle padded closer, her tone ever soft and sympathetic. It looked like she was fighting back tears. "Lucca, I'm sorry..."

I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear any of it. I didn't want to think. I ducked and ran out too, like an animal flushed from its burrow. The rain couldn't touch me. I ran east until I hit the coast and hit it hard, my knees scraping the pebble-strewn sand. My kidneys still ached from the eat-and-run and my leg was on fire and I didn't give a damn. I needed a minute to... to something. I sat like a zombie on the beach, watching the bleak grey clouds and gale-tossed waves and praying to the god of schadenfreude that the sea serpent Magus was chasing would rise up out of the abyss like a tidal wave and wipe it all out--my house, the dead bodies in the bedroom and everything. Then I wouldn't have to think about anything.

I thought about red gates, despite myself. A great playwright once said that every hero needs a defining moment of tragedy in their life. I tried to be a hero once, three and thirteen years before. I tried to save my family from tragedy--to redeem myself and give my parents a chance at a normal life--and for a time, I succeeded. But I'm no hero--I know better, now. That stuff's for kids and dreamers. All good deeds must come to an end.

I wondered if, given the chance again, I would have even bothered...

I don't remember how long I was out there, but inevitably someone found me--I just didn't expect that someone to be Ayla. I stared dead ahead and refused to acknowledge her, hoping she might lose interest in whatever friendly gesture she devised and walk away. I wasn't in the mood for condolences.

She rather sauntered up beside me and stood with her gaze cast out over the water, arms crossed and hips canted in her typically relaxed-yet-confident manner. To my surprise, she didn't have any greeting or comment at hand. She didn't seem particularly moved one way or the other, and I was lulled into the comfort of her steadfast (if unusual) silence.

Then, suddenly yet solemnly, she broke it. "Ayla know death like this. Ayla have friends, strong men, Reptites take. Have daughters of strong men, Reptites take. Men ask, 'Chief, why no save?' Ayla no can save. Everyone hurt, want to blame Reptites _and_ Ayla."

I stared at the rugged stones embedded in the sand around me. It looked like a pile of rubble. How grim, how appropriate.

"...Ayla wishes could save, bring daughters back. Save everyone. But Ayla know, no can save everyone. Ioka knows. Ioka strong because Ioka knows."

Why was Ayla telling me this? I peered up at her, looking for an explanation, yet all I found was an expression lost at sea. She then looked down, catching me with her trenchant eyes and firm, determined grin as she said in a tone that didn't need to persuade, "Lucca strong. Lucca strong because fight, even when no can save. Lucca know?"

It was funny, but I did know what she meant. Ayla always had this down-to-earth wisdom that shone through no matter how many prepositions she left out. It must have made her a great chief. "Y-Yeah..." I hiccupped. Perfect, I had to start crying in front of Ayla, of all people, when the woman just gave me a compliment. At least I had the rain for a cover. "Yeah, I know."

Ayla grabbed my arm and yanked me vigorously to my feet, popping my shoulder (I don't think she knew her own strength, half the time.) "Good! Ayla know, be okay. We go back? Scary man no wait much longer."

Screw Magus, I wanted to say, but courtesy prevailed. "Sure, yeah..." I wavered, rubbing my eyes on my sleeve, and then faced her with a bit more resolve. "Yeah, let's go."

Magus was just the one waiting for me when I got back to the house. He was perched on the edge of the roof like a gargoyle, his stony glare fixing me to the ground. "Are we ready to go yet?"

Ayla pouted while I fumed, "God, could you put being a jerk on hold for like a few more minutes? I need time to sort this out."

He snorted. "Fine. But remember, the dead have all the time in the world. We don't."

I left him and his gall to stew in the rain and walked inside. Then there was that inevitably awkward moment where we wondered what to do with the bodies. I would have to report the deaths in town later, but for the moment Frog and Ayla helped me bury my parents behind the house, while Marle went to look for Crono. I don't know what she said to him, but he was notably calmer once she brought him back. Frog, bless him, never said a thing--he just lent a hand with the dirty work. I think I appreciated that the most.

I tried not to let it get to me, because I knew this whole ordeal hit him almost as hard as it did me, but Crono hadn't looked at me the whole time. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but I was a little afraid to ask. I knew one thing for sure without even looking: he was pissed. I'd seen him enraged in battle before, his sword cutting a righteous swath through whole bands of monsters that threatened his friends, but this was different. It was dangerous because it lingered, like the kind of black vengeance Magus practiced--and it was good, I thought absurdly, because one of us had to be angry. I was still too numb.

_'The rage comes later. Let it smolder,'_ the black voice whispered.

Eventually we were all standing around a pair of fresh graves with a morbid lack of purpose. "Should one of us say something...?" Marle asked with trepidation. Suddenly several eyes were on me.

The ground was the most fascinating thing in my line of sight. I shook my head. I didn't mean to be callous or avoidant; there just wasn't anything more to say. "No... no. Let's just go."

It was when we were finally leaving that Crono made a gesture, setting one hand on my shoulder, though his gaze remained focused somewhere distant. I got a chill, a small shock that festered under the skin even after he pulled his hand away and walked ahead. That was getting weird, and I wasn't just imagining it. I wondered if he felt it too, but I wasn't brave enough to ask. Maybe later, when that bloodstained rag on the floor of Magus's Castle wasn't the furthest thing from our minds.

Marle approached me next, prying confidentially, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," I answered dully, not too quickly or too slowly. "I'll be fine. Just don't ask anymore."

"Okay. If you're sure..." she said with a lack of faith that was almost irritating. I wasn't weak. I wasn't about to break down and cry, like some baby. I was going to be strong, like Ayla said. I still wanted to find out what was going on, now more than ever, and the last thing I wanted to do was get left behind or slow the group down with my moping. I wasn't sure if I was putting it all behind me or just postponing it for later, but either would have to do for now.

Believe it or not, it was Magus who helped put my mind back on track, thanks to his typical, arrogant insensitivity. He rejoined our group at the bridge, the very picture of impatience. "Are we going now? I'm tired of waiting."

"Yeah, thanks for being a consistent dick." The weird part is I kind of meant it.

"No problem," he shrugged it off. "So, where to, next?"

To hunt down Lord Heckran and the Mystics that did this, of course. What other course was logical? After what that one did to Crono, and then Captain Alsten, and now my family, I was starting to really despise heckrans. Then there was Ramezia... I didn't like that name. I didn't like how little the diablos told us about him. I was perversely looking forward to finding him--all of them, and then... And then I could burn that bridge when I got to it.

"That Mystic Ayla caught said the Heckran Caves were their base. We could see what's going on there," I suggested.

"He also said that's not where the source of power for the gates is being kept," Magus rebutted.

"Sure, but we might find someone there who does know."

"Or we could find the source of the gates faster by actually _using the gates_."

"What are you saying, you want to go back and try another time with the gate? We already know the Mystic attacks came from this era!"

"But we still don't know where the gates came from. The Mystics didn't put them up--they even admitted it. If we want to get to the bottom of this, we should be looking for Ramezia, not Heckran."

"And that's what I'm saying--we can best get to Ramezia _through_ Heckran!"

I liked how nobody was willing to get in the way of our bantering until Marle timidly interjected, "I kinda want to see the gates you guys are talking about..."

Magus smirked wickedly. "See? We couldn't turn down a request from Her Highness, now could we?"

I scowled. "That's cheap, Magus, really cheap..."

"Hrmph, I don't care. I believe we agreed from the start that _I'm_ deciding when and where we're going. We're going back to the gate."

I gritted my teeth. Technically, he was correct. Damn verbal contract. "You just want to get back to your own time and screw everything else, don't you? That's why you're doing this."

He whipped his cloak over his shoulders and strode off. "I don't care what you think about my motives, either. Let's go."

"Tch, fine," I relented. "Douchebag..."

We stopped by Crono's house on the way back to the gate, partly for provisions such as drinking water, spare towels and a few packs of jerky, but mostly for Crono to check in with his mom and receive the tongue-lashing he was due for lying about where he was going. Not that she could stop him from leaving again, I noted wryly, but watching him stand back and look cowed while the woman went on a tirade about being responsible and not "skipping out of town while the poor cats starved" was almost entertaining enough to make me forget the rest of the day. Almost.

"Don't you look away, mister! I'm still talking to you."

Crono sighed and sagged against the wall, crossing his arms and waiting for the rant to run its course. _Right, right..._

"Don't get sassy with me, either! I've told you a million times if I've told you once, I don't care where you go or how long you're out, so long as you let me know. Mr. Varg came by and said he had another job for you, but I had no idea what to tell him when he asked where you went. Did you even get paid for your last job? I only had just enough for groceries this week. And these cats! Don't even get me started--I've been tripping over them both non-stop since you left. And what in the world happened to your clothes? They're torn to shreds and filthy! You can't be frolicking with your friends in the mud all day with it storming out there like that--you'll catch your death, you know!"

Crono's mom didn't fuss much over the rest of us, except to politely welcome us indoors before dragging her son into the kitchen to chew him out--as if we couldn't hear it over the whole house, anyway. Magus didn't even bother coming in. Frog never looked more casual, leaning against the wall with a foot on the doorpost, his arms folded and one golden, half-lidded eye passively sweeping the room. Ayla teased Cyrus and the other cat, Millie, by tugging on their tails, while Marle tried to peek around the corner to watch the main event--it was the pitiful, guilty look on her face that finally inspired me to intervene.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I spoke up. "I was the one who dragged Crono out. I wanted to show him something in the canyon, and we let time get away."

Not a lie, right? I was pretty proud of that one. I heard Frog clear his throat with an amused snort. Too bad all I accomplished was drawing her ire.

"Now Lucca, I know you know better than that. The city ward just posted a flood watch! You're lucky I'm not telling your parents--they would throw a fit if they knew you two were messing around up there. Good heavens."

I choked up a bit, my gaze slipping to the floor. "Er--my parents. Yeah..." The one thing I had asked Crono not to mention was what just happened to them. We didn't exactly have the time or motivation to break any bad news, since we were running on whatever cloudy daylight we could get. The sky was just starting to darken as evening pressed in, so we needed an excuse to get going soon.

That's when Marle stepped up, winking at me. "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll keep an eye on them!"

Crono's mom huffed with relief. "Oh Marle, you're the only one I can count on to keep these two in line!"

Marle giggled. "You bet!"

Thus assured, Crono's mom turned back to give him a hug. "You're going back out again, aren't you? Please be careful."

Crono smiled and nodded, grateful to be let off the hook. The only catch was his mom shouting before we reached the door, "Feed these dang cats first!"

The hour wasn't too late when we reached the cave with the gate shrine. As I expected, Marle found it all marvelous, and she was bubbling with questions we still couldn't answer. She hovered over my shoulder while I stood before the gate's silver rings and mused out loud over my notebook, "Well, we've already eliminated two: the 'fire' rune for Truce Canyon and this 'spirit' one for Ayla's time." I tapped the page with my pencil, frowning. "It's too bad we weren't paying attention when we first jumped the gate, or I could've had the Magic Cave's coordinate down, too."

"Why, would it have moved since you used it?" Marle pointed at the rune in the top notch. "Maybe that's it right there."

"Maybe..." I shook my head. "Wait no, the Mystics have probably been through here since. There's no way to tell."

"Ayla not sure, smell many different monster--old tracks, new tracks, lots been through here." Ayla paced around the pillars on the edge of the platform, looking over their engravings. "Neat paw prints! This art? Look like kilwala!"

I heard Magus cough darkly, and when I glanced back he was fixing me with the same incredulous glare he used that morning in his castle. "Who told you that other one was 'spirit'?"

"Um...?" Didn't Masa and Mune tell us? _'Sure they did,'_ the black voice snickered.

"I dunno," I hedged. "I've got them all written down, anyway. Doesn't exactly matter what they stand for." That was a fib. I was terribly intrigued, but what good would it do to stand around and ponder when the answers were beyond? I enjoyed a good mystery, and liked to think things through, but I enjoyed going, doing and discovering even more--maybe all that adventuring rubbed off on me. Or just Magus's impatience.

"Which shall we gamble on, next?" Frog prompted.

I shrugged. "Uh, any of the other six, really..."

Marle hopped in place, excited. "Oh, oh! Can I pick?" She reached for the inner ring and spun it, amazed by how it moved. "That's amazing..." It rolled soundlessly to a stop, and she tipped an inquisitive look at the top rune. "That's one we haven't tried, right? Which one does that symbol stand for?"

I shrugged again. It was 'wind,' but I didn't want to say so. After the way Magus was looking at me, I wasn't even sure if I was supposed to know that. I jotted it down in my notebook and avoided him. "Who knows? It's our next stop, is what it is."

"Ayla ready!" She leapt across the platform and whirled to face the gate. Crono raised his hand; he was ready, too. The Gate Key felt heavier than usual. This was becoming the longest day of my life, yet as long as there was still daylight, our sense of adventure wouldn't give out. We all made the jump, looking forward to the next answer.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all your feedback re: Frog, guys. It really gave me something to think about, and I love that. And thanks to Kasienda for a little extra insight--I went back to the previous chapter and made a few small adjustments.


	9. The Dragon Lady

**9. The Dragon Lady**

When we reached the other side, we didn't appear any closer to the origin of the gate shrines, but I was getting a hunch that whoever built them really liked dark, creepy caves. At least this one was refreshingly dry and cool, and the fire of the gate played sea-blue ripples across the smooth stone.

Ayla scanned the room with her nose crinkled and her hands cocked on her hips, looking disappointed. "No one here? No smell monsters."

"I guess not..." Marle determined. "Should we go outside and see where we are?"

Crono liked that idea enough to lead the way. The tunnel heading out of the gate shrine was long and winding, yet clean and straightforward. There were several dips and cavernous pockets along the way, but not any branching paths to confuse us. It was also pitch dark, so we were relying on Magus's unique torchlight and the glow of the Rainbow to make our way around.

Eventually we reached the end, where daylight carried a blustery chill. When we stepped out under the clouds, we were buffeted with snow rather than rain.

"Oh my gosh!" Marle clutched her parka tight and walked to the edge of a cliff that dropped to reveal an incredible mountaintop view. White-capped rocks tumbled away for miles, gradually thawing into muddy slopes and verdant trees, and the plains beyond were shrouded with precipitation so thick we couldn't see the horizon. The clouds sparked and rumbled in the great distance, and below one could faintly make out a road that would surely lead to civilization--otherwise, there wasn't a landmark in sight. "We're so high up!"

"I can't tell where we are. What about you guys?" I piped up.

There was a round of headshakes. "Wherever we be, it is storming hither as well," Frog noted.

"It's just a coincidence, right?" Marle asked, looking around for reassurance, although none of us knew better enough to answer. I didn't like it at all.

"Yon path looks steep and fraught with ice, and the late hour encroaches," Frog assessed. "Wouldst it be fair to make camp and resume our journey in the morning?"

We checked the sky, which was turning from looming grey to smothering indigo. "Yeah, we should rest up before trying to climb down," I agreed.

"Camp inside cave?" Ayla supposed, glancing back the way we came. We all turned in time to witness Magus charging into the cave with undue abandon, as if in pursuit of something.

"Magus??" I chased after him, and everyone followed. Something was wrong. Magus tore through the dark corridors with long, determined strides, making it difficult to keep up. Once inside one of the larger antechambers he abruptly stopped, one outstretched arm barring our path. We all stumbled blindly to a halt behind him. "Hey, what gives??" I demanded.

The light in his hand was cautiously dim, and he refused to look back. "That's enough," he said with enough strength to forge deep echoes in the placid rock. I suddenly got the feeling he wasn't talking to us.

Crono drew his sword again as Marle asked, "What? What are you talking about?"

"We're being followed," he said.

We all started, feet shuffling over the floor, and I heard a second ring of metal as the Masamune was bared. "What?? Are you sure?"

"Someone's been following me since I woke up in your time. I wasn't certain, so I tried to lose them in the prehistoric age, but they tracked us down again." Magus glowered into the hall leading back to the gate. "Now I'm sure."

My glasses slipped down my nose as my eyes widened. "You mean somebody's been following us _through the gates_?"

"Is it the Mystics??" Marle asked, duly alarmed.

A frown weighed on his expression as he considered it. "I sense some magic, so it could be."

Then, to our greater surprise, the Masamune shuddered and started glowing hotly, saturating our half of the cavern with insistent blue and pink light. I recognized Masa and Mune's voices right away.

_"It's worse than that!"_  
_"I shoulda known those gates would've brought one of _those_ here."_

"What? Those _what_?" I pressed, biting back dread and panic. If it was bad enough to make the Masamune's spirits freak out, it was serious business.

It was Magus who challenged the shadows. "If you want to live, I suggest you come out now."

For a time, nothing moved, and we watched Magus's torch cast deceptive, skittering shadows around every corner. Then, one of the shadows stood up, making my heart jump and the Masamune sing a keening note. It was anthropoid in height and build, and emerged from the secluded rim of the cave with slow, deliberate steps, not making a sound. Through the dark I could discern the glint of a pair of eyes staring back at us. The flame in Magus's hand shifted to a brighter orange hue, drawing the mystery figure into light.

It was a woman. She didn't seem extraordinary at first glance, with pale skin and unkempt dark hair--but then something rustled at her back and I realized they were _wings_--like a bat's, or maybe a dragon's. She was clothed in purple rags and wore a subtle yet insidious smirk that did nothing to inspire good faith. It's a horrible thought, but everything about her appearance and dress made her look like the bastard lovechild of Ayla and _Flea_.

"Who are you...?" Marle wondered.

There wasn't a moment to answer before Masa and Mune screamed in unison, "_Neiphiti!!_" "_Bitch!!_"

The stranger grimaced and then outright scowled at Frog's weapon. "Excuse me, did that fucking sword just call me a bitch?!"

We all gaped at the outburst. The woman's accent was bizarre and undeniably foreign, and none of us knew the name she was called. Magus, ignoring the exchange, held his fireball towards her with a threatening flick of the wrist, like aiming a gun. "I believe you're the one who owes us answers."

_"Don't bother!"_ Mune spat. _"She's a neiphiti! They're all made of lies! She wouldn't give you a straight answer if her life depended on it!"_

"Whoa, wait! Do you two know her?" I asked the sword.

Frog edged in with a question of his own. "Art thou a fiend?"

"Yeah, are you with the Mystics??" Marle backed him up.

The stranger screwed up her brow, looking suitably confused and insulted. "A what? Who? Hell no! Don't associate me with any of the mongrels on this planet! I'm an outsider."

"An outsider?" I picked on her diction. "To what, the _planet_?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it?!" she snapped.

Half of us reeled while Marle stammered, "W-What? Are you saying you're--you're an alien? From another world?"

"What? There's no way!" Even as I said it, I couldn't rule it out. After all, Lavos had proven that life from outer space not only existed, but also knew how to find us. I just didn't expect the second extra-terrestrial we ever met to be so... "But you look more human than anything."

She scoffed. "You people think this is the only world with humans on it? You guys have come a long way thanks to my kind, I'll have you know."

This remark inflamed the Masamune even more. _"You arrogant bitch! It's because of your kind that--"_  
_"Mune, hush."_ Masa's tempering tone interjected. _"I thought we weren't going into this."_  
_"No way, it's our job to warn the boss about the likes of her! Do you guys have any idea what her people have done to us??"_

The stranger shook her head, aghast. "I have no idea what you little shits are talking about."

Mune seethed. _"Like hell you don't! What about Genova? And the Abornite slave camp! That ring a bell??"_

She seemed taken aback, some vague acknowledgement creeping across her features, but Masa broke it up before she could speak for herself.

_"Peace, brother."_  
_"But... but the war! _They_ started it!"_  
_"Bygones, bygones. She speaks the truth. Look into her heart."_  
_"I don't want to!"_ Mune whinged. _"It's probably filled with worms!"  
"Oh come on, who are we to carry a grudge? Let's be the good guys, here."_

The sword dimmed pensively, and then Mune chirped, _"Hah, I guess you're right. We're the Great, Magnanimous Masamune! We kick ass."_

"Err..." Frog croaked, at as much of a loss as the rest of us. Mune fired a parting shot across the room. "Now listen lady, just because you're not lying doesn't mean we trust you!" Then, to Frog, "Keep a real good eye on her, boss."

At that, the Masamune's glow faded away, leaving us alone with the stranger. "Hrmph, your sword has some nerve," she sneered.

I quickly found my wits. "No, Magus is right. You owe us some answers! Why were you following us?"

She crossed her arms and glanced aside, irritably tapping her foot. I saw something swish behind her knees--was that a _tail_, too? "Because... because!" At least she didn't try to deny it. "...Because I'm lost."

"What?" Marle wasn't sure she heard correctly, and neither was I.

She wasn't delicate with her words, that was for sure. "I said I'm _lost_, damnit! I came to this planet looking for something. But I didn't find it, so I decided to go home--except when I tried to put in my planet's coordinates, it wouldn't work! Something's gummed up the whole gate! You can't adjust it or anything. I didn't even know what the hell that fourth ring was for--so I went ahead and took the gate, to see where it went. That's when I found you..." She indicated Magus. "...on the floor, knocked out. I waited until you woke up and then followed you to see if you'd show me what's up with these gates."

I was astounded. "You mean, that's what those gates are designed to do? To create portals to other worlds?" That must have been what the other three coordinate rings were for--except they were locked in place.

"That's what the damn things are _supposed_ to do," she confirmed, exasperated. "But like I said, somebody stuck their dick in it and fucked it all up! Now I can't figure out where the hell I'm going, and listening to you guys talk about _time travel_ only makes it more confusing!"

"That's because the gates we know usually traverse time, not space," I filled her in. 'Usually' was now the functional key word, there. Something else in her story snagged me. "Hang on, how can _you_ open the gate without a key? Didn't that Mystic say it takes magic?"

"So?" she rejoined. "Don't _you_ know magic?"

"Twist not thy words, and answer our questions forthwith," Frog warned. Just because the Masamune had grown quiet didn't mean it was put away.

She sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, _yes_. I know magic. All neiphiti know magic. It doesn't even take that much to work the gate rings."

"So you're following us to find out where these gates came from, too?" Marle interpreted.

The woman snorted. "For what good it's done! None of you _d'shis_ know what's going on, either--and apparently I've been jumping back in time without even knowing it! This is the craziest shit I've ever seen."

"You have no idea," I remarked, the feeling definitely mutual. Marle continued, "If you don't mean us any harm, why didn't you just come out sooner?"

She shrugged, as if it were trivial. "I'm trained to stay undercover on a strange world. Can't trust anybody not to be hostile. That's rule number one."

I didn't like what 'trained' implied. "Says who? Are you working for somebody?"

Another harrumph, this one more contemptuous than the last. "No. I work alone."

"What is it you want?" Magus asked in a tone that wasn't open to negotiate.

She nodded towards Marle. "Like the girl said, I just want to get off this rock. If I have to track down the people who did this to the gate and beat the crap out of them, then that's what I'm gonna do, and if the fastest way to find those people is to follow you guys, then that's what I want to do."

"Okay, so..." I panned an uncertain look around my comrades. "Where does that leave us?"

Magus wouldn't budge, his face a stern mask. Frog was likewise focused on the outsider, his gaze riveted to her every move while the Masamune was held ready. Ayla stood more relaxed, if no less wary. Crono shifted his grip on his sword, vacillating between distrust and acceptance. He passed me an ambivalent look that I shrugged off to Marle.

"Well... I..." Marle faltered, apparently not as ruffled by the proposition as much as the task of phrasing it. "...don't see... why not... you come with us?"

Frog suppressed a not-so-amphibious noise, and Magus shot the princess a _look_ that said he objected to the highest degree, yet both's lips were sealed.

"If it's... okay with everyone else?" I tried, barely more confident. Crono surprised me by sheathing his sword and crossing the room to meet the woman. He offered his hand, and she looked it over with a weird mix of trepidation and disdain before shaking it.

Crono nodded, approving, and Marle threw up a cheer. "Yay, the more the merrier!" Frog drew a calming breath and tucked the Masamune away, ever trusting the intuition of the descendant of Leene. Magus lowered his fireball of doom with an unswayed frown--I think he was disappointed over not getting to use it. I was surprised he didn't go ahead and kill her despite us, like he did with that diablos.

"So, what's your name?" I had to ask, since we were all getting familiar.

She tossed me a fishy look, as if she were considering a false answer, or not answering at all. In a tone that would've better fit 'none of your business,' she then said, "Mishu."

We let Mishu camp with us. Magus and Frog were impressively tolerant, despite the Masamune's protests, while Marle and Ayla were openly fascinated by the addition to our group. They grilled her with innocent--if intrusive--questions that were batted away with such vitriol I had to wonder if she was normally that foul-tempered or if it was just the circumstances. For someone we elected not to kill for stalking us, she sure wasn't gracious about it.

"Do those wings really work? They look scaly. Can I touch them?"

"You strong? Have to show Ayla how strong sometime! Back home, Ayla have contest, make strong drink, drink lots!"

"Yes. No. What?? Fuck off, already, I'm trying to eat!"

Crono and I sat back quietly, chipping in where appropriate. I was incredibly curious, myself, but something about that woman was a little intimidating... and to be honest, I was getting tired. It really had been a long day, and I just wanted to eat my jerky and crawl into a corner for the rest of the night.

The campfire was another of Magus's conjurations, and a good thing, since a real fire would have required tinder we didn't have and produced smoke we couldn't vent in the small cave. It was more to provide a decent source of light than to cook over, since we didn't have anything fresh to roast. There wasn't much to do about getting comfortable, either, since all around us was stone and more stone, so we made pillows out of the couple of towels we brought from Crono's house and whatever articles of clothing we could spare. Magus, in his vampiric nature, was prone to rest on his feet, so no one could tell if he was ever truly asleep or creepily watching everyone--and I've seen Ayla passed out in trees, on tables, in gutters and between every rock and hard place imaginable, so at least it wasn't a problem for them. Thankfully, Mishu slept on the ground rather than hanging upside-down from the ceiling like a bat.

I knew I was tired, and I should have gotten some rest, but long after the fire was out, everyone was snoring and the only illumination was the wan blue glow from the gate around the bend, I was still awake. Maybe it was lingering doubt over the well meaning of our new companion. Maybe it was the stupidly hard and chilly cave floor. Maybe it was the stinging throb in my right leg again. Or maybe I needed some quiet time to think--to let everything I discovered that day finally catch up with me.

We just met an alien. From another _planet_. I now had to consider an otherworldly source for the gates, which was--needless to say--daunting. And even if Mishu was lying about all that, the wings and tail still made her a specimen of interest. I wondered if she was going to be any help to our cause. I wondered how Masa and Mune allegedly knew her. Didn't they call her _neiphiti_? I knew that word from somewhere, somewhere so deeply engrained in my memory that it was impossible to dredge up. Strangest of all, I wondered where I had seen the likes of her before...

I could try to reference it. My mom kept an antique bestiary on the shelf in her room. I could ask her to look up--no, I couldn't. My parents were dead. They weren't ever coming back. My life would never be the same. Even when all this was over—whatever all of this _was_--I would be going home to an empty house. And then I would have to figure out what to do with myself. I wasn't looking forward to that decision.

I wished I had been there. I could have stopped it. And then I really wished Robo was with me, to tell me not to dwell on the unpleasant 'what-if's.'

...What did they do to deserve that? My parents were honest and kind. They never even whispered an unsavory word about a Mystic. This band of Heckran's was just ruthless, heartless and despicable. I scrubbed my eyes--I hated crying. I wanted to be angry, to feel the need for revenge, but it wasn't coming as easily as the tears. My heart wasn't in it. I felt like I was letting my mom and dad down, just for that, though perhaps they wouldn't want me so bent on vengeance. It was a rotten, bloody path, I knew, and my gaze subconsciously drifted to Magus.

The Fiendlord... He had gone so far to get what was his back from Lavos, but it was never enough--not on his own. I didn't want to end up like that. I couldn't give up and walk away, either, but... Maybe I could see where Frog was coming from. A little.

The only bad thing about getting time to think to myself was that I never really got any, thanks to the black voice.

_'It's going to get very interesting from now on.'_

I know better, but sometimes I talk back to it anyway, just for the hell of it. _'Oh? How's that?'_

_'It's going to be just you and us...'_

Us. The black voice said _us_. I mentally filed that slip away. It didn't say any more.

I'm not sure how, but I sensed a pair of eyes watching me, so I started looking for them. In a well-shaded corner I saw a shock of red hair bob slightly. So, Crono was awake. I squinted and found him reclining against the wall, legs kicked out over the floor. I then spotted Marle tucked in on his right side, her head propped on his shoulder. They looked pretty cozy. I flipped my nose at him with a funny smirk. _Caught you._

Either it was too dark or I was being too vague, but he didn't get it, and he tilted his head back, perplexed. The ironic thing about Crono's little language was that it didn't translate both ways. I could discreetly pass a message across a room if I had to, but if I tried to hold a conversation with the exact same signs he used, most of it would be lost on him. Maybe he doesn't pay attention to how dumb he looks sometimes, who knows. He can, however, read lips (and even eyes) with surprising efficiency under almost any light, and that's what I have to rely on when the occasion calls for silence.

He patted the ground on his free side, beckoning, and I obliged, tip-toeing around Frog's prone form (he was sleeping right on top of his sword, just in case, I supposed.) I treated Marle with a long, careful look before settling down, just to see if she was awake too, but her face was the image of perfect slumber.

I sat with my knees pulled up to my chest and watched for what he had to say, if anything. Sometimes Crono simply called me over for company, which was just as nice, although he had Marle with him, now--I couldn't see how he'd need me for that. He showed me his knuckle, which had been scraped raw from punching that door and then smoothed over as with a healing spell--it looked like Marle's handiwork. _Sorry about that._ He then rolled his brow with a pang of shame. _Sorry about all of that._

_It's okay, I know_, I mouthed. Normally I would have kicked him for thrashing my house, but the situation wasn't normal--and the damage was already done by then, anyway. I couldn't think of anything to say after that, but the great thing about Crono was that I rarely had to. I rested my head in my arms and closed my eyes, drinking in the respite.

A minute later, Crono tugged on my sleeve. _You okay?_

I was agitated by the question--almost angry, really--because when it had come from Marle, it felt like an affront to my fortitude. That wasn't very fair to her, I realized, since she was only trying to be a good friend--just like Crono was, now. I sighed, trying to loosen up. _Yeah, fine._

He gave a dopey, kind smile and reached out to tousle my hair. It was meant to be a soothing gesture, I knew, but--completely out of his control--it had the exact opposite effect. It was like getting licked by foxfire, electric goosebumps trickling down my neck and spine. I nearly yelped out loud as I bolted forward, landing on my knees, but I bit my hand to stifle the sound.

What--was--that? I paused, breathed, and glanced back to gauge Crono's reaction. He seemed shocked, for sure, although I worried whether it was due to my reaction or because he felt that... _thing_, too.

_What was that??_ I asked, and when he dazedly shook his head I knew I hadn't imagined it. He stared at his offending hand with a wide, awestruck look, flexing his fingers.

Crono wet his lips and passed Marle a nervous look, hoping not to disturb her. Once he confirmed she was still asleep, he waved me closer, guilty curiosity etched on his face. _Come back here, I want to try something._

I'm a scientist; I like to experiment. I'm just not too keen on experimenting when all of a sudden _I'm_ the test subject. I knew what he was about to try, and I almost didn't want to comply, but then I almost couldn't stand to refuse. I shuffled over and sat squarely with my hands on the floor, grounded for another shock, even as Crono told me in so little words, _Hold still._

I flinched and held my breath as his fingertips grazed the hair on the nape of my neck, roiling invisible hackles. It was too gentle to be real, yet when he touched my shoulder it felt like cat's claws, searing through flesh and nerves that bled pure ambrosia. It was cold lightning, mineral ice, angel's teeth and devil's tongue, making my skin crawl with a bittersweet sensation that rattled to the core. When his hand dipped under my collar and down my back it felt like a ghost drawing a rake through my insides, turning everything inside-out and icy-hot, and I was never going to catch my breath again but if I did the first thing I was going to do was kill him because it was the most intense caress ever--I was going to melt--I was going to _die_, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to unleash a feral moan that woke everything on the mountain.

Some incriminating noise must have escaped me, because in a flash Crono's hand jerked away, and when I blinked I was a puddle on the floor. I groggily pooled my arms beneath me and forced myself to sit up, rallying my senses. "Holy _hell_," I breathed.

Crono was breathing hard, positively flustered; I couldn't imagine what that heady touch did to _him_. A stricken look crossed him. _Are you hurt?_

'Hurt' was the last was word I'd use. I shook my head.

Marle reminded us she was there by stirring softly, her eyes peeling open with a yawn. Crono tensed up, frozen to the spot, and I wasn't about to make a sudden move, either. She found me sitting nearby and blinked sleepily. "Hey... what's going on?"

I gulped, scrambling for a response. I didn't want to lie, but I wasn't even sure what the hell just happened, much less whether she saw any of it.

Marle didn't pay me much mind, anyway. She nestled further into the crook of Crono's arm, her hand splayed over his chest. "Mmm, you moved, my big strong pillow..." She abruptly pulled away and studied his face, roused by concern. "Huh? What's wrong? Your heart is racing."

Crono started gawping like a fish, and I had to save him. "Bad dream," I supplied, noting with a wince how short my own breath was. Hopefully it just sounded like whispering.

"Aww, you poor thing..." she cooed, wrapping her arms around his neck and drowsing like a happy feline. Crono returned the hug with a big sigh of relief, peered over the top of her head and mouthed the most emphatic, _Thank you_, I'd ever seen.

I almost laughed--I was practically delirious. _You're welcome, you dolt._

I left the couple alone, crawled back into my corner and tried to sleep, my skin still teeming with an eidolon's kiss.

* * *

A/N: ...Did I mention this is the fic my Mary Sue originally came from? I didn't? Oops. She was a little different in the original draft. Some might recognize her from my Great Fox comics--she had to meet Magus somehow, y'know?

Speaking of those comics, another familiar OC should be showing up soon...


	10. Death Peak

**10. Death Peak**

We left the gate cave and headed out that morning under a leaden sky. The snow had let up, so the way down the mountain was clear, though ridden with frosty gales. The wind howled through the gorges, kicked snowy tumbleweeds across our path and made my ears burn, and not for the first time I wished I had brought my old helmet. At first I was too hurried and excited to fish it up, and the last time I stopped at my house... it wasn't exactly foremost on my mind. I couldn't even recall where it was hiding--the thing was probably on the floor of my trashed room, or buried in the attic like the Gate Key had been.

At least all that wind smacking me upside the head was a reminder that I needed a haircut. I like to keep it short so it'll stay out my eyes, not to mention any machinery I'm working on. I suppose I could simply tie it back like Marle, but she has such pretty, rich and wavy hair, and mine is just lank and ugly.

...What the heck am I going on about? Anyway, it was tough going down the mountain because of the icy rocks and snow banks, and we had to watch our step at every turn. Marle remarked that it was just like our trek up and down Death Peak, and I had to agree that the scenery was familiar--almost eerily so. Thankfully she didn't press that observation, because I wasn't up to waxing nostalgic over one of the most traumatic legs of our journey to defeat Lavos, even if it did have a happy ending.

At length we entered a ravine where the high cliffs blocked the wind and the ice broke into a tiny black stream. Evidently Marle and I weren't the only ones who recognized the landscape, because as soon as we found that quiet reprieve, Mishu spoke up. "Hey, we're talking time travel and shit, right? Like you guys say, you're all from different times?"

"Yep!" Marle replied. "Why do you ask?"

Mishu shrugged, flipping a thick dark lock out of her face. "For what it's worth, this is the time I'm from. I remember this place from when I first got here."

"Verily?" Frog questioned her. "Dost thou know what year it be, then?"

She snorted sardonically. "No, I don't know what year you people would call it."

That seemed reasonable; according to her story, Mishu wasn't aware she was time traveling until after she found Magus, so why would it occur to her to look up the time in the first place? Regardless, she was bound to be familiar with the local geography, so I asked, "Is there a town or something nearby?"

She nodded down the ravine. "Yeah. A ways south, they've got this city. I think it's called Traven."

I had never heard of such a town, and neither had the others. Then again, tons of settlements had risen and fallen throughout the ages with hardly a footnote, and there were places in-between the gates we knew that were vastly unaccounted for. Perhaps this was a date none of us had visited before.

"South it is, then," Magus flatly declared, strolling along without a second thought. Nothing seemed to excite that man, but for me, the prospect of discovering a new time era was just a little thrilling.

Marle felt the same way. "I can't wait to see what it's like. Do you think we're in the past or the future? I wonder if the cities here are under big domes, like the ones in Robo's time."

I really missed Robo. He was a great friend. It would be wonderful to see him again, even if the chances of him recognizing us in the future we altered were slim-to-none. If I had put any consideration into it, I could've visited him at Fiona's plantation back in the Middle Ages, but that ship had already sailed, and like the frog said, Magus waits for no man--or robot. It was amazing that he even brought the knight along, though if his attempt to take the Gate Key from me was any indication, Magus probably had much, much less luck getting the Masamune away from Frog. The risk probably outweighed the hassle.

"Traven is," Mishu answered the dome question.

"Really?" Now I was especially intrigued. If it was after the year 1999, this could be our best chance to observe the new future we created without Lavos. I had always wondered what it would be like without the destruction and desolation that monster wrought--a world where humanity and technology are thriving in harmony. For the first time since we set out on this adventure, I had something to really look forward to.

We came across a swath of trampled snow, leading down a forgiving slope in the semblance of a road. Frog squatted over the trail, investigating the crude ruts and sooty blotches. I watched him and tried not to laugh at the snowflakes that had accumulated in the creases of his sticky skin, drawing funny white lines that resembled an old man's beard.

"Strange tracks..." he mused, picking up a wad of greasy snow. "Th'rt like a carriage, yet not. Whate'er it be, it seems to bleed black oil."

Ayla bent over his shoulder, sniffing thoughtfully. "Smell like raw boot! What you call--maw shin?"

"A machine?" I translated. "Maybe it's a motorized vehicle of some sort."

Marle raised an incredulous look. "Like a car? All the way up here? In the mountains?"

Crono shrugged. _Why not?_ "Yeah, I'm sure the future has technology that's more than capable of traversing terrain as rough as this," I concurred.

Mishu stood over us, her hands on her hips and her brow scrunched disparagingly. "What the hell is everyone looking at? It's like you _d'shis_ have never seen a gods damn car before."

I didn't know what _d'shis_ meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn't nice. "Hey!" Marle objected, her hands flying to her own hips. "Maybe some of us haven't, okay? No need to be rude about it."

Her argument was a little misleading--Marle, Crono and I _had_ seen futuristic cars before, and even ridden in one, though it wasn't fair to speak for everyone on that experience. ...I wondered if ol' Johnny was around this age.

"Didst thou see such a thing pass hither?" Frog asked.

Mishu looked askance, thinking about it. "Nah, but... The first time I was coming down here, I saw some kids going up towards the gate shrine. They were talking some _karatosh_ I didn't understand--something about 'peaks' and 'troughs' and the gates. It sounded like they were working on them."

All at once, we were interested--I was, anyway. "Working on the gates??"

"Some kids, ye say?"

"Humans, like us?"

Mishu swept a depreciatory look over our group. "Yeah, they looked real young and scruffy, like you bunch."

"Hey..." Marle drawled, starting to take offense again, but then Magus pushed past us, plodding right through the tracks. "Let's move along, children."

Marle turned her indignant glare to the mage's backside. "Hey...!"

We followed the suspicious trail for another hour or two before stopping to catch our breath in the thin, cold mountain air. We had gradually descended into a wooded area, where icicles hung from the interwoven, snowy branches like crystal ornaments, and on a sunny day I imagined it all sparkled beautifully. As it was, the shards of ice and pointy limbs looked like a mesh of jagged teeth and skeletal hands, biting and clawing at the bellies of dark clouds.

For lunch we distributed the rest of our jerky rations (and a few of the biscuits Frog had stashed from Magus's castle--which was pretty crafty of him, I must say.) It didn't beat the sandwiches at Rick's, but it made a good excuse to take a break, and it was during this lull that Mishu decided to share with us, "Heh, I remember somethin' else, 'bout those kids."

"Oh?" Marle prompted.

She huffed, humored by the memory. "When they were talking, they said something about staying on the path, or they'd get eaten by some giant death worm or something really stupid like that."

"Giant death worm?" I echoed, vaguely horrified. I didn't believe that story for a second, but have I mentioned I don't like worms, either?

"Someone say worm??" Ayla called from the trees. She was picking off icicles and eating them like rock candy. "Mmm, this one have berry inside! Or bird poop."

Marle shouted back with enough discretion to wake the dead, "She said stay on the path, or we'll get eaten by worms!"

"Singular, so just one, apparently," I corrected, and then grimaced at the imagery. "A _giant death_ one."

Crono snorted, finding something in that amusing, and then walked off the trail and into a clearing where the snow piled up to his knees. He crossed his arms and panned a challenging look around the mountainside, like a boxer inviting an opponent into the ring. What a showoff.

"Oh com'on Crono, don't be stupid," I berated him. "There's no such thing as this giant de--"

I watched Crono stumble backwards as the entire field shifted and slid downhill like a carpet of quicksand being pulled out beneath him. The whole mountain shook, Marle shrieked, Frog dropped on all fours, and then we heard a startled wail from Ayla before she was catapulted up over the trees like a rag doll. She landed in a snowdrift not far from where Crono was buried, though before any of us could rush out to meet them, the forest _erupted_, snow and rocks spewing across the clearing as if Jack Frost himself had just sneezed.

The woods crackled and warped out of the way of the massive _thing_ that emerged from the ground--a fat, gruesome white maggot, almost as big as a house. Its segmented body was laced with quivering cilia and its radial jaw was brimming with rows of shark teeth. It barreled towards us like an oncoming train, turning up any trees or boulders in its path, and we all scrambled to safe ground as it roared by.

I couldn't believe it; we were getting attacked by a _giant death worm_. Irony, thy timing is impeccable. I climbed onto the highest rock within reach and frantically traced its path. Frog was already bounding through the plowed snow, Masamune gleaming in hand. On the other side of the trail, Marle was clambering onto a stone shelf, and to my left Crono and Ayla were digging themselves out of an avalanche. I checked my hand and found my air gun, drawn practically out of instinct--but then I realized the puny thing was going to be so utterly useless against this behemoth that I might as well toss it off the side of the mountain and spare the trouble. I packed it away and kept looking for an alternative.

I had lost track of Magus and Mishu completely; Frog was the only one remotely prepared to fight. From my vantage point, I could see the worm burrowing around a bend in the trail and heading back our way. I pointed after it and hollered, "Frog! There! It's coming back around!"

Frog followed my directions and skipped onto a rock ledge to see for himself. He watched the traveling mound of snow grow closer, braced his feet, and then threw himself off the ledge and onto the passing monster, his blade brought down for a chopping blow. The Masamune split the air in a straight, bright arc, like a guillotine of light--if only a fraction of a second off its mark. The worm breached the surface with a throaty screech, skidding wildly away from the impact, and when I looked closer I spied the last three segments of its tail cleanly severed. It bled green slime that peppered the ground and surrounding trees with fake blotches of summer.

Frog stood by its twitching tail while the rest of the worm reared up and swung around, tearing towards the knight with a vengeance. Just then some giant, bat-like shadow fell over me, and I cringed and ducked before realizing that it was Mishu. Her leathery wings flapped around her like sails, yet I was too spooked and amazed by everything going on to make some insipid comment like, _'So, you really can fly with those things.'_

I noticed her carrying a broken tree branch nearly as long as herself. Mishu looked at me and brusquely shouted, "You! Fire mage, right?"

"Uh, I--what?" I stammered before catching on. "Yes! Why?"

She held out the heavy branch, her whole body twisting against her madly beating wings to stay aloft. "Light this thing!"

I didn't know what her big idea was, but I didn't waste time asking. I threw out a spell that set the branch's spindly tips on fire, and then watched Mishu carry it off like a flaming banner.

Frog danced around the worm's lunging maw, his sword snipping at its pale flesh. Some of its viscous green blood splashed across his arm and face, and I heard a warbling frog's bellow as the fluid seared through his skin, apparently caustic. Frog quickly tried to wipe it off, but then he slipped on the rocks and fell, scalded and disarmed. The worm bore down on him, its breath steaming through its hundred teeth, but then Mishu swooped in with the flaming branch, battering the monster and driving it to distraction.

The worm shrank from the fire, shuffling backwards until it entered the clearing where Crono and Ayla were still finding their footing. The monster's thrashing retreat churned up enough loose earth to drag the two down even further, and soon they were clinging to the corner of a sheer cliff, snow rushing around them like a waterfall. "Crono!! Ayla!" Marle cried as she raced across the field, nearly getting caught in the avalanche, herself. With an ingenious stroke of magic, she channeled the plummeting snow into a solid cradle of ice that caught both our friends before they fell over the edge.

The monster held its ground in the meantime, swimming against the torrential slush--until a huge, vacuous explosion blossomed directly beneath it. It was a dark bomb, one of Magus's spells, and it forged a crater of shadow magic in the side of the mountain large enough to swallow a tank. Rather than get sucked in, however, the worm was kicked into the air with the force of an imploding black hole. It sailed down the slope, right over Crono and Ayla's heads, and off the side of the cliff, dropping at least fifty meters before hitting the rocks below with a splattering thud.

The rubble and ice gradually rumbled to a standstill, and we were all left in awe.

Crono and Ayla popped out of the freshly settled snow like gophers, looking bewildered. Marle ran across the field to help pull her friends out of the snow. "That was crazy! There really was a giant death worm. Is everyone all right?"

I heard Mishu cussing from the bushes the dark bomb had thrown her into. Frog sat on the ground, tentatively licking his wounds, while Magus sauntered out of the woods to finally join us. "Son of a fucking _gr'bon_!" Mishu raved as she tore free of the brush, stamping on the cinders of the branch that had landed on top of her. "Almost burnt my gods damn hair off."

There was no doubt that giant, grotesque thing was dead, but Ayla stuck her neck over the side of the cliff to see with her own eyes. "Wow! Big worm fall hard! Look like squashed fly down there." Just for good measure, Mishu chucked her burnt tree branch down after it, cursing its lineage all the way.

Crono started laughing--that airy, silly, dazed laugh of someone realizing he's lucky to be alive, and as soon as he was within slapping range I cuffed him on the back of the head. "You dummy! You could've gotten killed."

He shrugged defensively. _What?? We're all fine._ He then combed a hand through his hair with a muddled wince, looking at me like I was the crazy one.

"Wha--" I started, but then checked myself. The hand I struck him with was tingling and hot, to a paranormal degree.

Right, that--_that_ was something I'd wanted to talk to him about. It had just been difficult to get a minute alone together, without explaining to the others what for and why. I wasn't ready to have that talk with everyone, and I had a feeling Crono wasn't, either--not until we figured out _what_ we were talking about.

I got an idea. "Hey, Marle." I flipped a thumb towards the frog trying to lick raw acid off his arm--I had to credit his self-reliance. "I think Frog's hurt."

I didn't need to say more. "Oh! Hang on, I'll help." Our dedicated healer scurried off to do just that. "Frog! What are you doing? That could be poison!"

"They'rt mere burns. I shall fare fine," the knight assured her, though Marle insisted with her curative magic.

Ayla walked over, contributing to the fuss. "Yuck, green worm blood like fire water, only bad. Make burns like lava! Frog hold still, no try eat."

Well, that worked. I sighed and turned back to Crono. I severely doubted he had any better idea of what had happened between us than I did, but I still had to ask. "Hey, um, listen, about that thing last night..." Wow, 'that thing.' I sounded so educated. Why was I nervous? "Did you, uh, did it feel like...?" I couldn't think of a way to put it that didn't sound creepy.

He grimaced, catching my drift, and then leaned close enough to mumble over the wind, "Yeah, that freaked me out. I thought I was imagining it at first."

"Okay thank God," I blurted out. I wasn't crazy--for that, anyway. "So you felt it, too? What do you think that was?"

Crono glanced over the horizon, shaking his head. _I don't know, but..._ He frowned a tick and rubbed his elbow. "Made my whole arm go numb." He then gave a twitch of a smile and admitted so quietly the wind almost carried it off, "...felt really good."

"Um..." I pretended to clean my glasses. Yeah, it did. That was kinda the worst part. "Say, you remember yesterday morning, when we woke up..."

I didn't have to finish my sentence. He snapped his fingers and then circled his wrist.

I nodded. "Yes, exactly. There has to be a connection--I think that cloth we found is linked to what started this. I just wish we had more evidence..."

It wasn't quite what I was asking for, but all of a sudden Crono grabbed my hand and held it, kindling a sweet fire through my fingers and all the way up to my shoulder. My breath hitched and I tried to blink back the strange, dizzy flush that came over me, but after a few seconds (minutes, hours, an eternity) I wasn't even sure I could keep standing. If I had any presence of mind left I would've jerked back or told him to let go, yet Crono simply stood in front of me, running his thumb over my knuckles with a kind of soft, open fascination that was definitely not helping at all.

"I... it..." I said dumbly, and flicked my gaze up to read his expression. He met me halfway, light blue eyes dark and wide--marveling at the sensation that had to be mutual--and I couldn't tell if the red on his cheeks was a blush or wind burn. He looked a little lost, a little faint and a little bit of... something else... I either couldn't place or secretly didn't want to. It was like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words and didn't know how to shrug it off.

My pulse was wild and my nerves grew skittish--I was about to crack. Crono abruptly looked over my head and then broke away, releasing me. I staggered half a step, trying not to fall to my knees in relief. What in the world had possessed him?? I drew one long, deep breath to clear my head, and then finally noticed what he was staring at--or rather, what was staring at _us_.

Mishu was perched on top of the nearest rock, grinning down at us with a peculiar, unsettling expression. "What are you looking at?" I asked peevishly.

Her smile only broadened, like a cat laughing at a mouse. "Nothing. Just a couple of kids." Her tail flicked curiously as she glanced back towards the others. "Looks like your frog friend there is fixed up. Time to move out, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah..." I agreed warily, trudging past the gargoyle of a woman. We'd barely met, but I already didn't like Mishu. If I ever got a chance, I meant to ask Masa and Mune more about the _neiphiti_, as they called her. As eccentric as those spirits were, I trusted their word a lot more than I did hers, and I really needed more answers. About everything.

We immediately regrouped. Magus stood back from everything, as condescendingly aloof as ever, and refused to take any blame or credit. Frog cleaned his sword and then bowed appreciatively to show he was ready to go. Ayla shook off the snow like a wet dog. Marle caught Crono in a quick hug, yet as he returned it he passed me one last look--I wasn't sure what it meant. It was a cross between 'sorry' and 'later.'

As we all got back on track and continued down the mountain, the only answer I got was a black one. _'Beware of dragons. Hah, ha ha...'_

* * *

A/N: A minor edit: I moved the beginning of chapter nine to the end of chapter eight. Flows better that way. Sometimes I get ahead of myself--or is it behind?

...Er, anyway! I really appreciate everyone readin' this, just so you know. Next time, we finally learn a little more about the gates, plus some other surprises.


	11. The Magic Wand

**11. The Magic Wand**

Way back when all this time travel business was new to us and we first started traveling with Marle, Crono had this special way of talking with her that was radically different from the way he talked with me or his friends, and it was easy to notice the difference because he would actually... well, _talk_. Not anywhere near as loquaciously as the princess, but in short and clumsy bursts that were so obviously meant to appease that I had to wonder what the heck was wrong with him. At first I thought it was some retarded gesture towards her royal status, but I eventually figured it out--that the fool was falling for her--and it was sickening to watch him try to break his old, steadfast habit just to hold a "normal" conversation.

After a while I couldn't take it anymore. As soon as I could corner him alone, I got in his face and whispered harshly, "What's the matter with you?"  
He shrugged, affronted if confused. _What??  
_"Don't 'what' me!" I stabbed a finger at the distracted princess. "You! Her! I'm tired of watching you pussyfoot around like some wimp! You're acting like an idiot--I mean, more than usual--and it's driving me crazy! Just be yourself, you dumb tool; she already likes you anyway."

At that I stormed off, leaving him scratching his head. In retrospect, I'm not exactly sure what I accomplished, but Crono did start to relax more around Marle. We all did, really, once the image of a real friend replaced that of a princess. Still, Crono never quite gave it up--trying to speak with her--even though his words were always quiet and stunted.

Sometimes his old style of talking--not-talking--mixed with the new. The result, after three years of awkward practice, became conversations like this:

"I've always loved the snow. Once, when I was a little girl, Mother took me out in the courtyard and showed me how to make snow angels. She looked so silly, lying on her back and flapping her arms in the snow! The look on the guards' faces was priceless. Oh, and then we went inside and had some of the chef's gingerbread cookies. They are the _best thing_. I have to make you try some this winter. What did you like to do as a kid when it snowed?"

"Um..." Crono drew three circles in the air. "Snowmen."

"Oh, those are so neat! Whenever I rode into towns for Winterfest I liked it when we'd pass through the neighborhoods and look at all the different snowmen in people's yards. I've seen snow pumpkins, snow antelopes, snow dragons, um..."

He made a boxed-in sign with his hands. "Snow castles."

"Oh yes! I remember a family that made an amazing snow castle--I almost thought it was part of their house! You'd think it would be so cold inside, but I once read that's how people in the north used to keep warm. I guess it kept the wind out? But if it's supposed to be so warm, how doesn't it melt from the inside-out?"

"What? Make hut from cold stuff?" Ayla jumped in, laughing at the notion that must have seemed ridiculous. "No can keep warm that way! Crazy idea. Ayla bet that tribe all frozen--that's why no around anymore!"

Crono grinned and shrugged while Marle gave a tinkling laugh. "Hehe, probably!"

"Ehh... Winter was ne'er my favored season," Frog warily contributed. "My skin dries out in such cold."

That made sense; nobody ever sees frogs frolicking through fields of snow, after all.

The going was much slower down this peak than it was down Mystic Mountain, but we were still making good time (giant death worms, aside.) Thankfully the thin, blustery climate at the top gave way to a tranquil, temperate forest at the bottom, and my fingers finally got a chance to thaw out. Before long the snow completely receded, and we traded a blizzard for more rain and thunder. Not once did the skies break or the clouds show a silver lining--it was just gloomy grey cumulonimbus, non-stop.

Although we couldn't track the sun, the day was beginning to show its age when we finally found the road. It was just a couple of muddy furrows sawed out of the grass, but it looked fresh enough to be worth following. We didn't have to go very far. As soon as we cleared the trees, we spotted a vehicle at the bottom of the hill: a dingy white truck of a strange yet simple make, its four rubber tires lodged firmly in the mud off the side the road. Its cramped cabin sat between a wide, open bed and a nose that presumably housed the engine. Two people were hanging around it: a really fat guy in a red shirt leaning out the side window of the cab, and a much scrawnier guy tipped headfirst under the open hood.

People were good. People meant civilization, and that meant a place to get our bearings. Our group stopped and wondered at them for a moment. "Should we go say hi?" Marle ventured, but as soon as she set one foot out, Mishu reeled her in with a hand to the shoulder. "Hang on. I think these are those kids."

Marle whirled back to her. "Huh? What kids?"

"Whoa, you mean those kids you think were working on the gate?" I recalled.

Mishu nodded. This was even better. These were just the people we were looking for--the kind of people with answers. We all passed around a look of consensus before approaching the truck. As we neared, I could pick out pieces of a frustrated exchange.

"Com'on man, when are you going to get a new truck?" the fat guy whined.  
"When I have the money."  
"You're always saying that, man."  
"And it's always true," retorted the guy under the hood. They did sound fairly young--probably not much older than Crono, Marle and I.  
"I thought you were getting forwarded a big check?"  
"It hasn't come in yet--damnit! I can't reach this. The valve is behind the... ow! Damnit!"  
"You realize this is ironic."  
"What?"  
"You can put together a damn quantum ring clock from like, barnacles and a chicken-scratch instruction manual, but you can't fix your own old-timer, piece-of-shit truck with your own tools."  
"It's not a big deal! I just need to find where the leak is and patch it, and then--ow ow ow! My finger's caught!"  
"Geebus. You're sad, Jerad."  
"Shut up, you're not helping."

I'm not sure if we were too collectively fascinated to interrupt, or just waiting for them to notice us, but none of our party said a word until we were practically on top of the truck. Marle raised a friendly hail, breaking the ice. "Hi there! You guys need some help?"

There was a sharp, concussive bang as a skull connected with the underside of the hood. The scrawny guy gave a clipped cry, backed out and stared at us in dazed shock. That's when the fat guy finally caught wind, and he gaped at us with a stunned, flaccid expression I'd better seen on ogres.

"Yeah, looks like you're broken down. You need a hand?" I finished Marle's thought, hoping to inspire some sign of life from these two gawkers.

"Oh! Uh..." Mr. Scrawny--Jerad, apparently--ran a greasy hand through his dark, short, limp hair and blinked around a slipping pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He must have had no idea what to make of us--to be fair, I wouldn't, either. It's not every day a pretty girl approaches a couple of stranded motorists in the company of a cavewoman, a gargoyle, a warlock and a giant frog with a sword. "Hi there..." He abruptly remembered our offer and started again, teetering over the rim of the engine compartment. "Oh, uh, I think I've got it here, thanks."

I propped a hand on my hip and bit down a smug grin. This was going to be interesting. "You sure? I'm a mechanic."

The two did a double take, witless looks migrating from the more outlandish members of our group to me. The chubby, incredulous squint from inside the truck was unmistakable--I love it when people underestimate me. I left the suggestion hanging for a minute until Jerad fumbled with his glasses over a reply.

"Well, I... uh... Sure, if you'd like to take a look..."

"All right!" I perked up, slung my travel bag behind my back, stepped up to the toolbox wedged under the truck's front bumper and started poking around. "Lucca the Great is on the case."

Marle tittered. "You guys are in luck! Lucca can fix anything." She turned to the fat guy, who was still sitting like a lump in what appeared to be the passenger's seat. "So what's your name?"

He reached a big, pale hand out the window. "Uh, Ryan."

Marle shook it pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, Ryan! I'm Marle. And this is Crono, and Frog, and..."

I let Marle take care of the formalities while I got to work. The automobile's insides were more primitive than I expected: a quad-turbine combustion engine with a handful of computer components to regulate the transmission and probably some menial on-dash functions. It looked like a shipwreck, with boltless hunks listing throughout the open assembly and nearly every metal joint rusted into submission.

("This truck? Can move? Has wheel-feet. Where animal to pull it?")  
("I think it's supposed to move on its own.")  
("Oh, Ayla know! Want Lucca hurry fix, Ayla see move.")

"Yeah, it's pretty old," Jerad said bashfully, assuming my lack of familiarity was due to the truck being out-of-date, rather than me. "My dad used to drive this thing back when he went to college. If I could afford something better, I would've chunked the thing ages ago."

("So, uh... Is that like a costume, Mr. Frog?")  
("Ehh... Aye, that it is.")

"Ah, well... no problem?" I rolled with it. "So, you think there's an oil leak? That can't be the only thing, to make it stop running..."

("Oh. It looks pretty real. Can I, like, feel it?")  
("...Nay. Nay. Just, no.")  
("Lucca! Hurry fix. Ayla want ride truck!")  
("Just be patient, Ayla...")

"Oh, well, yeah, I think something snapped loose around here..."

It wasn't anywhere near where Jerad was pointing, and I had to crawl under the truck before I found it--a belt was off, along with a bunch of popped valves. One monkey wrench, a band of duct tape and a can of motor oil later, it was all patched up, piece of cake. I stood back and brushed the grime off my shirt (in vain) while Jerad barked at Ryan to give the truck a start. It shuddered to life like a sputtering old man, but then stabilized to Jerad's satisfaction.

He closed the hood and nodded appreciatively at me. "Thanks a bunch!"

"No problem! So, where are you guys headed, anyway?" I probed.

Jerad threw a thumb over his shoulder and down the road. "Back into town." Anticipating my next question, he panned a look around our idling group. "You people need a ride?"

Marle flashed a sweet, pleading grin. "Could you?"

Ryan shrugged, totally beguiled. "Uh, sure? There's plenty of room in the back, I guess."

Ayla leapt into the bed of the truck with an exuberant whoop. "Yes! Truck ride! Go fast!"

The boys exchanged an apprehensive look before ushering our gang on board. Jerad climbed into the cabin and sat behind the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at us through the open hatch in the back window. Neither had managed to erase the uneasy bewilderment from their expressions, and while they were trying to act grateful, they didn't look too keen about taking on hitchhikers--especially ones as weird as us.

I tried to get comfortable in the gritty metal bed of the bouncing truck, settling just behind the cabin. Marle and Crono squeezed into the corner across from me, Frog and Mishu hugged the sides, Magus squatted on a toolbox, and Ayla skated around freely, riding every bump and turn like she was at a rodeo. We were moving at a pretty fast clip--or at least fast enough for the rain to sting against our faces--and it was difficult to hear anyone speaking over the noise of the engine, the weather and the various tools clattering around.

Nonetheless, this was working out perfectly. Not only were we getting a ride into town, but our drivers were also our new leads in the mystery behind the gate shrines. All we had to do was find the best way to ask them about it... but was that such a good idea? If these people were working on the gate, then they might be working with Ramezia, who was working with the Mystics, who weren't exactly on our side at the moment. So we had to tread carefully if we wanted the right information without giving ourselves away.

Marle must have been reading my mind, because she lowered a confidential look at me and started to mouth, 'Should we ask them about...?'

Jerad beat us with a question of his own. "So, where are you guys all from?"

In all our adventures through the gates, we never had much of a discretionary policy. We didn't go around blabbing that we were from the future or whenever, of course, but "don't ask, don't tell" became our _modus operandi_. If someone did ask, we usually tried to answer as simply and honestly as possible ("We're from Truce," "We're from Ioka," etc.) and none were the wiser. It's not like someone on the street would run up and ask where you stash your time machine, after all.

Ayla, who happened to be sitting for a lull in the ride, spoke up before any of us could even think. "We come from gate on mountain!"

Jerad smashed a foot pedal under the dash and the truck skidded to a halt, dirt and gravel spraying off the tires with a loud hiss. Half of us frantically braced ourselves over the rain-slick bed of the truck while the rest lurched forward, following inertia to its bitter end. Frog slammed into my shoulder like a sack of bricks, and my head hit the back hatch with a disturbing crack that I prayed belonged to the window and not my glasses.

When my vision cleared (with a few stars, but thankfully no cracks), I found Ryan cursing and kicking in his seat next to Jerad. "Damnit man, what the hell!?" Frog grumbled an apology and pushed himself off so I could breathe, while Ayla tumbled upright, scratching a knot on her head.

Jerad jerked around, shooting us a crazed look that was almost hilariously serious. "What did you just say??"

_Damnit_, Ayla. I rolled my eyes and threw up one arm, surrendering. "Well, since the cat's out, might as well ask: what year is this?"

The two boys blinked. Ryan started to answer automatically, "It's--" Jerad cuffed him on the arm and then cornered me. "No, _you_ tell us what year you think it is."

"Uh..." I checked the others for a hint, an idea--anything. Crono bit his lip, Frog juggled an uncertain expression on his bulbous brow, and Magus harrumphed, looking away. "Um, we don't know?" Marle hazarded. "That's why we asked?"

"It's 2002," Ryan blurted, and Jerad punched him again. "Ow! Shit man, what's the deal?"

2002 AD? Were they serious? That's three years since the Day of Lavos--just like it had been three years for Ayla since she fought with us, and three years for Frog, and three years since the Millennial Fair--and I bet if I asked Magus, he would (probably not) say that three years had passed between us, as well. That could not have been a mere coincidence, yet the possibilities boggled the mind. I almost didn't want to think it, because it was irrational and self-centered to the extreme, but it almost seemed like the gates--no, time itself--were following us...

I would have to revise my notes on the relativity of time travel, but for the moment we had bigger fish to fry. Jerad wasn't giving us the most hospitable look. "You came from the gate," he said flatly, as if running the thought aloud for his own validation. "You all came from the gate? Is that a joke?"

"Um... no?" I said lamely.

Ryan's face seemed to melt with--amazement? Horror? It was hard to tell--while Jerad positively lit up, killing the ignition on the truck and edging closer. His next question, asked like a child looking for a hidden present, absolutely threw us. "Did Ramezia send you?"

Marle and Ayla gasped while Frog uttered an explosive croak. "Ramezia!! Thou knowst that fiend?"

"No, but we're looking for him," I responded quickly. "How do you know Ramezia?"

Jerad held up a hand, cutting me off. "No, wait a second--I've got a question to ask. If you don't know Ramezia, then how did you get through that gate? Those rings have been encrypted on a very specific temporal frequency that not just anybody can waltz in and crack."

"Like, magic?" Marle guessed.

He startled, shaking his head. "What? Like--no, it's not magic, it's..." He abandoned that tack before he said too much. "Not exactly but okay, let's say it's like magic. So how the hell did you guys open the gate?"

Great, he was on to us. I attempted some damage control, turning the question back on him. "Well you guys have the access frequency, right?"

"No, actually, _we don't_," Jerad threw back, his tone intense enough to sound earnest. "Our client does. Which makes me wonder who exactly sent you guys." He wagged an accusing finger. "If you're from the university--or so help me, if Chuck McGraph put you up to this--I swear I'm throwing you all out of the truck right now."

"Nobody sent us!" Marle objected, as diplomatic as ever. "We came on our own. We just used the Gate Key."

Jerad twisted in a spasm--it looked like he was trying to mash the brakes again, only we were already stopped. It took him another second to compose himself. "You--what, you just... Who ARE you people??"

"We art... what thou may call time travelers," Frog said delicately. "Speak for yourselves, timefuckers," Mishu grunted indelicately.

Ryan timorously asked, "Can we see it...?"

Normally, I would love to show off. The Great Lucca's inventions are practically a work of art! But this was a little complicated. Marle passed me a permissive look that I quashed by grabbing her wrist and yanking her aside. "Could you excuse us for a second?"

Jerad gave us that second, willing or not. Once I had Marle out of earshot I whispered, "What are you doing??"

She shrugged. "What? We should be open with these guys so they'll trust us."

"I'm not so worried about _them_ trusting _us_ at this point! Didn't you hear? They know Ramezia! We shouldn't give ourselves away!"

"Why not?? They're just as innocent as we are!"

That was the most naive thing I'd ever heard. "We don't know that!"

"Exactly!" Marle stressed. "We don't know anything! But these guys do. Do they _look_ like the kind of people who deal with Mystics?"

I flicked a glance at Ryan, who was trying to reach across the steering wheel and turn the ignition key himself. ("Oh com'on, let's just keep going. We're out of pocket lunches and I'm starving here!") "Wittingly? No, but..." My argument ran out. "Can we please be careful?"

"You handle it, then," she simply said, and stamped back to the middle of the truck. Was that a _challenge_? Crono shrugged at me, vaguely apologetic. _What can you do?_

What could we do, indeed...? I needed a minute to think. We weren't necessarily in trouble, yet. If Marle already trusted these two, then maybe...

I reclaimed my seat behind Jerad and began to negotiate through the window hatch. "Sorry. We've had a rough trip, and all we really want are some answers. If you could tell us whatever you can about Ramezia, we'd be happy to show you how we use the gates."

"You have a Gate Key," Jerad stated bluntly, giving the impression that he already knew exactly how. His voice contained an unsettling amount of awe.

I didn't miss the resentful look Magus was shooting me as I drew the key out of my bag and wagged it at Jerad. "Yep. Check it out."

The boys reached for it at once, like puppies snapping at a table scrap. I pulled it back just in time, baiting them. "And Ramezia...?"

"Uh..." Ryan fumbled, and Jerad picked up the slack. "Oh! Um, yeah..." After a thought, he pitched agreeably, "Well hey, if you're looking for Ramezia, we can arrange a meeting. I mean, if you guys want."

Wow. The Gate Key was starting to feel like a magic wand--not only did it have the power to open gates and make Magus shut the hell up, but it also made fellow nerds bend to my will. Ah, the possibilities...!

Ryan tossed him a baffled, "We can?"

Jerad returned with equal confidence, "Yeah I... think?"

I screwed up a frown. "You _think_?"

Jerad reluctantly admitted, "Well we... We've never actually met Ramezia."

"What?" I asked, incredulous. "And you're working with her? How is that possible?"

He shook his head and shrugged. "We've only met this guy, her contact. We don't even know his name or face. He just calls himself 'Lady Ramezia's representative'."

"Wait a second, so Ramezia _is_ a woman?" Marle made the connection--that Ramezia was most likely the 'lady' that Mystic mentioned at the castle.

Ryan snorted. "Yeah, and she better be hot, for the way that guy bones after her."

"Geez, I know. I've never met anybody so creepy and weird." Jerad stole a flinching glance at Frog. "Uh... yeah. Anyway, Ramezia's our client. She contracted us to work on the gate."

"To work on it? So you weren't the ones who built it?"

Ryan gagged on a snicker, finding the notion ludicrous. Jerad explained, "Originally? Are you kidding? There's no way we're capable of anything like that. As far as we know, it was already there."

Of course--so Mishu's story on the gate shrines still checked out. Would that mean they were really created by aliens? Would that mean Ramezia was...?

"We just did the modifications, like she told us to," Jerad continued.

"Ramezia told you? What kind of modifications?"

"Uh, well, it's complicated--"

"Are you the fuckwits who put that extra ring on it?!" Mishu interjected, rising from her seat. Frog bent forward, staying her with an outstretched hand, and I couldn't hear what she grumbled as she sat back down.

Jerad shrank from the aggressive woman. "Er... yes? Among other things. We were called up for our expertise on temporal displacement using matter-to-energy diodes. We've been trying to build a device that can make a fourth vector quantum jump for years, now."

"A time machine," I inferred, unable to believe my ears. Were these guys for real?

Jerad recoiled, impressed--and then delighted. "Yes, precisely! Everyone at the university laughed at us because it was all theoretical, like science-fiction stuff, but Ramezia wanted us to put it to an actual test. So she gave us the directions and materials to take to this gate, and promised us the funds, and we just kind of... worked our way around it. We never actually tried the gate--I had no idea it even worked. I thought it was incomplete. That's why we haven't been paid yet, I figured." He shrugged, at a loss. "So, here we are."

"Yeah, at the bottom of Death-damn-Peak with no pocket lunches!" Ryan griped.

"We were going to work up there today, but the truck broke down and we had to turn around." Sensing that his part of the bargain had come full circle, Jerad started eyeing the Gate Key again. "Could we...?"

I relented, handing it over. Ryan snatched it up first, grubby fingers playing with the dials. "Whoa... Cool! Is this the real deal?"

Jerad stole it away and took his turn, admiring the key with almost reverent restraint. "An original...?" he breathed. He then pinned me with another look, all the hostility drained from his features and replaced with a hesitant eagerness that was almost charming. "So, um, what year did you come from, exactly?"

I shrugged. What was the harm anymore? "Well, we're all from different eras, really... But me and Marle and Crono, we're from the eleventh century."

Something about that keenly interested him. "Really?? So is there any chance, maybe..."

Ryan's head lolled back with an exasperated groan, as if he had heard this song a hundred times. "Jerad, come _on_, nobody cares..."

Jerad shoved him and then continued, "Is there any chance you know Dr. LEA?"

Who? What? The way he said it, my mind drew a blank. "No... Why? Who is that?"

"Is it someone related to Ramezia?" Marle wondered.

"Ramezia? Oh, no. Dr. LEA, he's a scientist from your time. He invented the Prometheus Circuit, which is still used in almost every robotic AI today."

I remembered something--a strange chip I had once found in Robo's circuitry while doing repairs (when I asked about it, Robo had a "memory read error.") Suffice to say, I was intrigued. "So he's famous, huh?"

Jerad elaborated with the enthusiasm of an avid student, "Not just for that. Dr. LEA left behind tons of research on all sorts of subjects, from astrophysics to ancient history to molecular chemistry--lots of it was revolutionary for its time. But the most interesting stuff--the stuff my team has been working with for years now--are his notes on subspace temporal distortions and dark matter, especially for matter-to-energy transfers. Some of it is really out of this world. It's that kinda stuff that Ramezia's interested in."

I nodded. "For your time machine."

Jerad was beaming with excitement. "Yes! So you are familiar with the doctor's work? That's what I thought when I saw this Gate Key. That's one of his inventions, you know?"

A shockwave ran through our group. Crono's expression almost exactly matched mine. _Wait, what??_

_No it wa_--wait. Yes. I got it. I got it, and I wasn't sure if I felt flattered or sick. Luckily Ayla didn't open her mouth, but I spied a contradiction on the tip of Marle's tongue and bolted forward to seize her hand, stopping her again. She asked _Why?_ in a glance and I just shook my head.

Not yet. I had an idea. Almost? Sort of. But those two guys didn't need to know about it.

Meanwhile, Ryan kicked the dashboard impatiently. "Damnit man, are you gonna start the truck or are we gonna sit out here all day? I'm not gonna get to eat supper until tomorrow at this rate!"

"Okay, okay! Geez, cool it..." Jerad shook himself into gear, passing the Gate Key back to me and getting the truck rolling again. All conversation blurred out between the rain and the rumbling vehicle. Marle was still giving me that innocent, questioning look--perhaps a little annoyed. But hey, she told me to handle it, and I was doing just that.

Still... I couldn't help myself. I had to know for sure. I leaned over the hatch and enquired into the cab, "So, is that his actual name? Dr. LEA, I mean?"

"Oh. Well, that's the thing..." Jerad began with a note of disappointment. "All we have of his research is what was left in Guardia Castle's archives. Most of it was really thorough and well organized, but after the place burned a lot of it was lost."

"Burned?!" I squeaked. Thank the stars Marle didn't overhear _that_.

"Yeah, you know, the Fire of 1038?" He blanched, catching his faux pas. "Er, I guess I said too much. Anyway, turns out there aren't any surviving records on the doctor himself--you know, who he was, where he lived, when he died, stuff like that--nothing to make a definite link, anyway. I've heard there's a lost journal out there somewhere, but it's never been found. Anyway, we simply call him Dr. LEA because that's how he signed a lot of his manuscripts: L-E-A. We're not even sure he was an actual doctor; it's kind of a posthumous title."

That was... interesting. And disturbing. I clenched my travel pack, where my notebook was hidden, and swallowed a compulsion to pull it out and open it up--partly because the paper would get drenched in the rain, and partly because I already knew what I would find: the same thing I write in the bottom corner of all my note pages.

My initials, _L.E.A_.

* * *

A/N: Mmm, it's good to be back on track (read: subsisting on Coca-Cola and Milky Way bars). So, a little while ago I finished revising "Planting Seeds," a prologue to this story that takes place on the Day of Lavos. If you'd like to know more about those lil' black voices, you should give it a look--the link is on my bio. It's illustrated! (But beware--it's also a crossover.)

Thanks again for reading, everyone!


	12. Free Bandwidth

A/N: Thanks to Zephira for a typo-check.

I am incredible at jinxing myself. A while ago, I remember reassuring a certain someone that I had a hard time picturing anyone in this cast in a sexual context, so this fic would be safe from that.

...To that person, I apologize for this chapter.

* * *

**12. Free Bandwidth**

"I've noticed..."

The green hills scrolled into the distance as we rode along, rain clouds encircling the horizon like a shower curtain. Gradually the landscape flattened and our rugged country road merged with a paved highway. We were surrounded by lanes of passing cars and trucks of all sorts and sizes, each as wondrous as the last. Unlike Jerad's truck, most didn't have rubber tires or any wheels at all, hovering just off the road via some hidden type of propulsion that was all the more fascinating. I considered it the same mechanism that drove the racecar that old man from the ruined future loaned us.

Sometimes we could spy passengers peering out the windows of the other cars, staring and wondering at us just as much as we wondered at them. Marle, Crono and Ayla would grin and wave back, while our less amiable compatriots would glare or ignore them. Frog bore the onslaught of curiosity just as well as he did the rain, with an unflinching countenance. It was incredible how he endured everything with steadfast patience, like a perfect soldier. There was a time when we knew him to be much less sure of himself, wallowing his life away in a hole...

That was before the Masamune changed him--made his passion true and his convictions stronger. Or was it his passion and convictions that changed the Masamune? Did the sword choose him, or he the sword? Either way, I had to admit, I admired his drive. Once he made up his mind, he didn't back down for hell or high water. And now here he was with us again, fighting for... the truth? Or what? He could have told Magus to bugger off, but if Frog was anything like me, the call of another adventure was simply too great to resist. Maybe that's what I really liked about the guy--amphibian... whatever.

As it was, he was so much of a statue that I almost didn't notice when he leaned close and started speaking to me. "Since we embarked on this journey, the people we've encountered hath employed an, ah... more colorful vocabulary."

"You mean all the swearing."

"Aye, that."

I gave a short, dry laugh, recalling Frog's confusion on the pier in Truce. "Yeah, that's just the way Crono's friends talk. They're idiots. Everybody else just uses it to sound grown-up and important."

I caught Mishu's eye, and she raised a testy eyebrow. "I wouldn't let it bother you," I finished.

"Aye, of course not. 'Tis mere wordplay." Frog settled on his haunches again, donning a coy grin--just a quirk at the corner of his mouth. "To be frank, it rekindles a few bawdier memories."

The thought of Frog doing anything 'bawdy' amused the hell out of me, and I cracked a grin of my own. "Heh... You, Frog? I don't believe it."

That arch smile didn't escape his voice as he confided, "Thou wouldst be surprised. A fine tavern can transform a man."

"No doubt." Note to self: buy Frog some drinks sometime.

"Ne'er the less, I wast only pondering whether t'was worth my study. Perhaps I should, as one might say, 'learn the lingo'?"

I mentally pictured Frog bopping and cursing like Liquel and snorted so hard I almost gave myself a hernia. Once I reeled in the hysterical imagery, I sputtered, "N-no! No, uh... heh, you're fine, Frog. Just be yourself."

Finally, at the far end of the road, we spotted it: a massive crystal bubble girded in steel. Its height and breadth were mountainous, and we could discern some buildings enclosed within. We didn't have to ask; we knew it was the city. It was a pristine sample of the domes we once explored in the apocalyptic future. At that time, those cities were shoddy, shattered and filled with dust, but now we had an eyeful of the genuine article, unmarred by destruction and decay.

Even from a distance, it was awe-inspiring. "Wow..." Marle spoke for everyone.

"There's Traven," Jerad informed us. "I take it you've never been here before, huh?"

"Something like that," I answered vaguely, transfixed by the view.

There were fields cut squarely around the settlement, each filled to the brim with rainwater. Even the tallest blades of grass barely pierced the surface, like little green hairs scattered over a mirror. Ryan commented, "Geez, look how flooded it is outside. They're gonna have to either plug up the culverts or teach everybody how to breathe underwater if it keeps raining like this."

"Oh yeah, there's supposed to be record levels of rainfall all over the world right now," Jerad noted. "It's crazy."

"It's the end of the world, man."

"Oh com'on..." Jerad groaned incredulously.

"I'm serious, man!" Ryan asserted, demonstratively counting off on his fingers. "Floods, volcanoes, earthquakes... You remember that earthquake out in Las Pacas three years ago? People are still sayin' they saw a UFO crash out there. There was this big streak of light and everything."

"Ryan..."

"Some people even say they heard something screaming, like somethin' not of this world. Nobody knows what the hell that shit was, but the government's got it all locked up. They're hiding something, man."

"Please. The reports said it was just a fault line."

"There ain't no fault lines in the middle of damn Zenan! I'm tellin' you, the high hats have the word up on this shit. There's probably space aliens locked up in bunkers out there or something, and it's all about to come back on us. You don't fuck with those aliens; they got those badass ships with death-rays and shit. We're going down, man."

"The only thing going down is your IQ, if you keep watching that bull on the tin foil channel."

"Hey hey, no dissin' the AIQ! Besides, I saw this stuff on our AI newsgroup."

"What? No, don't listen to anything Tempochaos posts, okay? He's full of crap."

At that point, Frog politely tapped my shoulder. "What do they mean, 'bad ass'?"

"Huh? Oh..." It was funny; he actually seemed interested in learning modern slang. I decided to educate him, in that case. "Well, you know how 'ass' is an insult, right?" He nodded, and I expounded, "But in some contexts, 'bad' is a compliment. Sorta. So, if something's 'badass,' it's really cool or hardcore."

He only furrowed his brow, as perplexed as ever. "Hard core?"

"Yeah, like..." I drummed the side of the truck as I tried to gather the best synonyms. "Tough, strong, something manly. It's a macho thing mostly, I guess."

Frog frowned at his boots, mulling over it. "So... 'bad' is bad and 'ass' is bad, yet 'bad ass' ist good?"

"Essentially."

"I see..."

As the city's fortified outskirts loomed closer, the highway branched up to a wall of stiles with striped barricades that allowed vehicles to pass one at a time. Our truck puttered through one of these stalls after Jerad threw a handful of coins into the toll bin, although the guard in the booth was giving us a look fit for a circus caravan. I had a hunch we weren't going to fit in very well--not that we weren't used to being the traveling freak show.

When we entered the tunnel it immediately stopped raining on us, and it was that tiny much easier to hear myself think--but then, once we reached the other side, all the thoughts flew right out of my head.

Traven was an amazing city. It wasn't large compared to the broken domes we once knew, and it didn't have the gilded splendor of Zeal, the rustic beauty of _ye olde_ Truce or the majestic facade of Guardia Castle, but it was breathtaking in its own way, with a little bit of everything. Cement roads arched gracefully over our heads and threaded around buildings that scraped a smooth, transparent ceiling half a mile high. Boxes of brick and mortar squatted between obelisks of steel and glass. There were cars swimming around towers with a thousand facets, and people walking their dogs along strips of classically wooden townhouses. There were quaint, familiar little things that hadn't evolved one bit in a millennia: fire hydrants, newspaper stands and stores with cheery, open fronts--and then things so grand or outlandish they were beyond belief: giant billboards with moving pictures, neon lights, blinking road signs, robots trimming hedges and buses with double decks.

And everything was constantly moving. It was a breathing metropolis at its heart, thrumming with people and vehicles that might not have been too out-of-place in our own times--they were just playing on a more flashy stage. The entire town was a patchwork of old and new, so dazzling and absurd it was almost nauseating.

The truck kept rolling, sweeping us along, and Marle and Ayla were vying to see who could point out the most interesting landmarks before they vanished around the next bend. The amazing part was that we had seen all these things before, just never the way they were meant to be seen--never with any _life_. The living city was definitely more incredible (and a lot less depressing) than the ruins we were acquainted with under Lavos's reign. Despite everything that was going wrong lately, I had to smile at that. This was a better future. We did a good thing.

"Is there anywhere I can drop you guys off?" Jerad asked at length. "Do you know where you're staying?"

I admitted that we didn't have a clue.

"Didn't think so," Jerad conceded. "Well hey, my place isn't very big, but you all can stay the night there, if you need to."

Marle graciously lit up. "Really? That would be really nice of you!"

"Such courtesy would be appreciated," Frog agreed.

Jerad nodded. "No problem."

"So who are you guys, anyway?" I had been meaning to ask. "How did you get into this stuff? With the gates, I mean."

"It's a long story..." Jerad hedged.

"We're called Free Bandwidth!" Ryan volunteered with a flush of pride. "There's me, and Jerad, and Gnat and Josh. And Kitty too, I guess."

"We all met at the university," Jerad divulged. "Our mission is to create an open-source database that anybody can browse on the Network for free."

"The Network?"

"Yeah, it's... It's hard to explain. The Network connects computers all over the world, but to access it you have to pay fees to these 'access providers' and to government organizations that control what goes on the net."

"Our goal is to get around all that bullcrap and let people get to the information without any restrictions," Ryan explained.

"Some people call us hackers, but we're not the bad guys, really." Jerad gave a meliorative shrug. "We just believe that all knowledge should be free to everyone, you know?"

"Huh, spreading knowledge. How noble," I remarked, impressed. "But what does that have to do with the gates?"

"Well you see, that's how we first came across Dr. LEA's original research: while hacking the net."

"Jerad's been obsessed with it ever since," Ryan said wryly.

Jerad squawked. "I'm not obsessed! It's scientific curiosity," he delicately amended.

Okay, I officially liked this guy. "And you decided to use that knowledge to build a time machine?"

When I put it that drolly, he seemed embarrassed, ducking his head to adjust his glasses as he drove. "Well, it's--yeah, kinda?"

"Why?" I pressed.

"I just... Well?" he floundered until Ryan spoke up.

"Because it's cool?"

"Because it would be an amazing breakthrough," Jerad put it more eloquently. "It would prove Dr. LEA's space-time theories correct once and for all, and get Free Bandwidth the recognition it needs to make it big. Then we'd be that much closer to accomplishing our real mission."

"Not to mention make us filthy fuckin' rich and famous," Ryan added.

"Er, yes, that would be nice, too."

"Then you could finally buy a new truck."

"This truck is _fine_."

"No Jerad," Ryan insisted. "Your truck is an antique. It's so old and ugly the museum won't even take it. It's so slow it breaks the suck barrier."

"It's pretty bad," I had to agree, after my first-hand experience with the thing's rust-clogged components.

"_Anyway_," Jerad sharply diverted the topic, glancing back to me. "Thing is, it was really hard to come up with all the materials we needed to get started. That's when Ramezia came in. She contacted me on one of our underground message boards, and we kinda hit it off, you know? Before I knew it, she was willing to give us everything, as long as we worked under her parameters."

I didn't need to look over my shoulder to see that the others thought that story stunk like a fish. "But you've never actually met her?"

"In real life? No. Like I said, we've been meeting this guy who works for her, instead."

"She must be like, some kind of eccentric billionaire living in secret in the mountains. Or she's a government tap," Ryan postulated.

Jerad shook his head gravely. "Don't even joke about that--"

"She could be, man! I hope you haven't been giving her access to any of our op channels."

"Why, is what you guys do illegal?" I asked.

"Uh..."

"Er... It's a grey area," Jerad basically said yes. "What's important is that we finally got a chance to put that research to the test--and from the looks of you guys, it worked." He shook his head in amazement, and then narrowed a sidelong look at us. "Are you _sure_ you don't know Dr. LEA?"

For the record, lying is wrong. "No... Never heard of him." And I'm not good at it. I don't know what exactly gives me away--some self-conscious quirk, I'm sure--but Crono always catches me when I'm lying with a very particular _look_. When I glanced his way, that's exactly the look I was getting--not condemning or condoning, just shrewdly acknowledging the crime. I shrugged and he shrugged back, indulgent as ever.

We drove off the highways and busy avenues and out towards the rim of the city, where the buildings grew shorter and less gaudy with every passing block. Eventually we arrived in a district where dwellings outnumbered shops, with unassuming apartments stacked upon a slanted sidewalk, creating steep, litter-filled, forbidding alleys. The air took on a hollow tone, devoid of the noisy commerce we witnessed downtown. We could only hear the occasional, distant crack, bark or stray voice, like ghosts catcalling across the tenements. There was a run-down, somewhat desolate quality to the neighborhood that not even the flickering orange streetlights could brighten.

We pulled up in front of a homely three-story brick building with the slogan, "OZZIE GET BENT" painted in fuzzy script on the side. As Ryan climbed out of the cab, Jerad tossed him a ring of keys. "Hey, show them up, would you? I'm going to go park the truck and unload."

"Gotchya." Ryan led the way up, through a dimly lit stairwell of raw, echoing concrete and to the top floor. He unlocked a door marked '3C' in brass letters (with the _3_ missing a screw and hanging upside-down) and let the seven of us into Jerad's flat. "Welcome to the poorhouse," he introduced.

It wasn't anything to write home about, but I wasn't about to turn up my nose, either. Not three feet from the door was the butt of a dingy brown sofa, facing out into the living room. Off to the left was an oval coffee table with a big chip off the wooden finish, a plush green armchair, a bookshelf and a black screen hanging on the wall that I almost mistook for a window. Behind the sofa and before a hall leading into the back rooms was a desk with a boxy console on top that I assumed was a computer, from my limited experience with such technology--it had a keyboard and some other palm-sized apparatus that might have been an input device. Off to the right was a tiny kitchen, its modest table overlooked by the only true window.

Crono snapped his fingers to get my attention and grinned teasingly. _Look familiar?_

There were oddities scattered over every surface--hex keys, machinist tools, dirty dishes, open books, microchips wrapped in anti-static foil, playing cards, and even a half-eaten sandwich on the kitchen table. The place had the magazine-strewn, crumb-covered, and generally disheveled look, feel, and smell of a bachelor pad. It was just messy enough to make me feel at home.

"Ayla smell cheese?" she observed.  
"Cripes, it smells like a scratch-n-sniff porno mag in here," Mishu said.

Okay, so I'd never let my room get so bad that it smelled like stale cheddar and... uh, _that_. I was going to slug Crono in the arm but then thought better of it, punting his heel instead. He snickered.

Ryan flicked on a lamp and immediately headed for the kitchen. "Aw dude, there's nothing but dust balls in here," he lamented into the refrigerator. "That's it, I'm ordering some pizza. You guys make yourselves at home."

None of us got another step in before a blustery, dark-hued woman barged out of the hall, loose papers rustling in the wake of her warpath. "Jerad...!!"

"Hey Kitty," Ryan blandly greeted as he started thumbing through a book of coupons on the table, a small device with a number pad held in his other hand.

She stopped short at the sight of us. "You--what the hell? Who are all you people? Where's Jerad?"

"Parking the truck," Ryan informed. "Chill out, Kitty. These are guests."

"Nice to meet you," she said curtly in our direction, and then proceeded to ignore us. "Ryan, I hope to hell you two brought back the rent, because I'm tired of Mr. Varg hammering the damn door down for it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Ryan grumbled as he tuned her out. He pressed a few buttons on his device, which emitted some electronic beeps. Then, to some of our surprises, a crackling voice issued from it. 'Hello, this is Pizza Shack. May I take your order?'

"Whoa, is that a telephone?" Marle wondered aloud. The telephones we were used to were big, bulky and found only in booths on street corners. The notion of carrying one small enough to put in your pocket was novel, to say the least.

"Yeah. You people like pepperoni?"

Crono nodded eagerly, and Marle all but jumped for joy. "Pizza sounds great!"

Kitty at last decided to recognize us, her demeanor suddenly welcoming. "So, you guys are Jerad's friends?"

Marle extended a hand. "Yep! I'm Marle, and..." We did the hello-rounds again.

Kitty clucked at our lot. "You people look soaked to the bone! You weren't out in all that rain, were you?"

"Oh yeah, we were..." Marle said sheepishly.

"Well hell, honey, let me get you something to dry off with." She whirled about and disappeared into a back closet, reappearing with a bundle of towels. We each took one and tried to settle in while waiting for pizza and Jerad. Magus assumed his usual post by the door, Frog looked for a place to stand out of the way, Ayla hopped straight onto the couch, Mishu perched on the edge of the coffee table and Marle and Crono idled behind the sofa while I started snooping around.

I was drawn to the bookshelf, which was filled with volumes I didn't recognize. When I picked out one of the books for inspection, I realized that it wasn't one at all; it was a plastic case with a printed cover. I cracked it open and found--a disc? Was this some kind of medium for data storage?

"What's this thing?"

"Huh?" Ryan responded. "Oh, it's a v-disc. Man, you guys really are from the gate, huh? You'd have to be living in a cave, not to know what v-discs are."

"Yeah..." I drawled, humoring him, that. "What does it do?"

"It, uh, holds stuff--like data?" Ryan confirmed. "Those are all movies."

Marle bent over the back of the sofa, suddenly interested. "Movies? You mean a motion picture? On that little thing? That's cool! How do we watch it?"

He wouldn't speak as much to admit it, but Frog's round eyes practically glowed with curiosity, while Ayla crawled closer, her neck outstretched inquisitively. "Watch? Picture that moves? Ayla want see this magic!"

Ryan shrank a little, unnerved by the onslaught of attention (or perhaps Ayla's ass hanging out of her loincloth--she often had that effect on strangers.) He then shuffled up to me with the bow-legged grace of someone who had mastered navigating this junkyard. "Just use the v-player. Here, I'll show you how it works." He took the disc I'd unwittingly selected and inserted it into a slot atop of the black box hanging on the wall, which whirred into action automatically.

I don't want to make it sound like we were a bunch of easily-impressed hicks bowled over by a mere movie, but as cinematically deprived as all of our societies were, we were absolutely hooked by the show that unfolded on screen, with its kaleidoscope of images, music and sound. Ryan even demonstrated how to pause the picture with a remote control the moment the pizza delivery guy knocked on the door.

So there we all were (even Magus, who shunned company like the plague) sitting around a v-player in that cramped apartment, wrapped in towels and watching a movie while we ate pizza and drank the last of the sodas in Jerad's fridge. It was a surreal moment, almost too casual to believe. What made it truly amazing, as Marle mentioned at one point, was that we were watching a motion picture in a locale as mundane as someone's living room. The film reels being developed in our home time were virtually nothing in comparison, and it was fascinating to see how far the technology would go.

We were so distracted by the movie (it was a "romantic comedy" whose title I wish I could remember--I was a little more focused on the quality of the picture than the content, to be honest) that we almost didn't notice Jerad's arrival. Kitty, who had been sitting peacefully with us that whole time, suddenly leapt up and rushed Jerad into the kitchen like a cougar after a fawn.

"Jerad! I've got a bone to pick with you!"

He warily turned to face her. "Kitty...? How's it going?"

Kitty unloaded on him like a vengeful angel with a shotgun. "I'll tell you how it's going! For starters, I can't get your damn landlord off my back--and I don't even live here! You didn't mention when you asked me to watch this place that I'd to have to listen to that old dinosaur stomping around every morning!"

"I'm sorry! I know, Mr. Varg's been bothering me for weeks. I told him I'd have his money at the end of the month. I don't know what his deal is."

"Huh," I chirped, and wondered in a low key, "His landlord's name is Mr. Varg? You think that's any relation to the Mr. Varg from our time?"

A.K.A. the man my father owed a new attic. ...Which meant I now owed him that attic, I supposed. Fair enough, since the damage was my doing.  
Anyway, I didn't expect Jerad's landlord to actually be related. Even on the remote chance that it was true, the two men were approximately fifty generations apart, so there wasn't bound to be a resemblance on any level, genetic or otherwise. I was only asking for the sake of pointing out a coincidence, but that's when Crono leaned across the sofa and signed right over Marle's head, _Only if he's still an asshole._

I nearly spit my drink back into its can. Marle had enough sense to feel excluded, even as she laughed along, and she swore--not for the first time, "I'm going to make you guys teach me your weird sign language one day!"

Crono needled her side with a conciliatory look and whispered something that made the princess double over with glee, so then I was the one left out of the joke and that made everything even. ...I guess.

Meanwhile, Kitty's tirade continued. "And the next time you go out on one of your crazy dork field trips, you need to pick up your damn phone and _call your girlfriend,_ instead of letting her break into your apartment to screen your answering machine to see where your fool ass disappeared to."

Jerad balked. "She _what_?"

"I'm serious! You better tell that crazy bitch that she needs to take a big fuckin' chill pill, because if I have to see her up here all in my grill askin' where you are _one more time_, I'm going to knock her pretty little bleached teeth out, I swear to God, Jerad."

"Ack, okay, I'm really sorry. Allie's just anxious! My phone doesn't get any signal up on Death Peak, okay? I'll call her right now..."

And Jerad left the room to that very end. So, I noted glumly, he had a girlfriend. She seemed kind of crazy and bitchy, too, from the impression Kitty was lending. I almost felt bad for the guy.

As soon as we were finished marveling at the movie, Ryan unveiled his next grand diversion: a "video game." It was a computerized graphical interface manipulated via analog control pads--or, in layman's terms, it was a game you could play on the v-screen.

I can't even begin to describe the bedlam that evoked. Once Ryan got everything set up and disinvested Ayla of the idea of eating the shiny buttons ("What? Not candy? Should no make look like candy, then.") the apartment was filled with excited whoops of victory, defeat, awe and confusion. Crono and Marle ate it up, the former's competitive nature at odds with Ryan's experience. Even Ayla thought it was a riot, and after toying with the controls for several rounds, she badgered Frog into playing.

I sat back from the revelry, a little too worn and dreary to do more than watch (and heckle Crono when he lost. I'll never be able to erase the mental picture of Frog gloating across the room, a control pad in his lap and his cheeks swollen with a smug croak.) Magus deemed the fun and games beneath him, since he made a point to scoff and walk out the front door. Mishu more-or-less followed, vowing to, "See you asshats later." They weren't especially missed. Kitty took her leave without any fuss, and Jerad took up residence on the computer behind the sofa, turning down Ryan's offer to get in on the game.

During all the commotion, I took a few minutes to open my notebook to a fresh page and jot down the events of the past few days, just to keep what was going on in perspective as well as leave notes for my journal back home. I got to the point where Marle joined us, stopped, stared at the open page for a while, and then shut the book. Not now.

_'Can't put it off forever...'_

Perhaps not, but I had enough willpower to wait for a more opportune moment--or at least a private one. I wasn't weak. I wouldn't be weak...

_'You're the weakest of all. They'll see through you, no matter how long you wait.'_

What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Shut up, stupid voices.

I must have been tempting fate or karma or whatever unscientific mojo people buy into, because right then Marle sat next to me on the couch, and at a glance I could tell that something was troubling her (and that it wasn't her turn at the game, since she passed her control pad off to Ayla.) "Hey," she said with a soft, confiding ring that only heightened my suspicions.

"Hey?" I returned, leery of her watery look.

("The ball! Get the ball! It's right--augh--there!")  
("See ball, no going where Ayla say! Hate fake people game!")

"You've been really quiet. I was just wondering if you were all right. You know, after everything that happened yesterday..."

("Ugh, block it! Just go--hey!")  
("Oh oh oh! Got ball! Make move!")

Oh. Hell. I opened my notebook again and let my gaze slip between the pages, swallowing back any gut reactions. "Um. Just fine, thanks."

("You want a piece of this, huh??")  
("Ball! Go!")

She leaned close, prying gently yet critically at the same time, "Just fine? Are you sure? I mean it was just _yesterday_, Lucca. Don't you feel--oh, anything? You've been acting like nothing happened. It's okay if you want to lash out, or get mad, or cry or--something! Even Crono's been better about expressing his emotions, and I can hardly get him to say three words in a row. Nobody's going to hold it against you if you want to talk about how you feel."

No, no, and no thanks. I couldn't... and wouldn't. I didn't want to talk about my feelings because I didn't want to _feel anything_. I shook my head. "No, I..." I noticed, detachedly, that my hand was shaking. I made sure Marle didn't see that. "That's okay, really." Then, figuring I would need a better response than that to put her mind at ease, I said, "I think I just need more time to figure out... something." That was kind of honest. I was making progress.

"Oh." She sighed, resigning the effort. "Well don't bottle it all up, okay? We're your friends, you know. We'll listen if you want to talk about it."

("Ah--ah shit, no no, you've got it!")  
("Thou dost not want a piece of this, I assure thee.")

"I know, thanks..." I started sketching some nonsense, looking busy.

I wasn't bottling anything up--it was pushing it aside, which was just as dangerously insane, but what could I do? Have a breakdown in front of everyone? We were on a mission--not as grand as our last one, but nonetheless important. I didn't know which was worse: being a sociopath or being a useless sop.

("Holy _crap_, it's--")  
("Yes! Goal! Ayla win?")

"Okay then, it's just..." Marle never finished that thought. Instead she turned away, shielding a pitiful, glassy look. I couldn't believe it. Was she about to cry?? Geez, she was being so sincere, I must have looked like a cold-hearted bitch in contrast. I wondered how normal people would handle something like this. What would my dad say...?

No, no no no _no_. I desperately needed a distraction.

I looked at a blank page in my notebook, got an idea, nudged Marle with my foot and forced a playful expression. "Hey now, don't get all wishy-washy on me. Cheer up. Check it out." I drew a wavy line across the page and dotted one half with dinky little boats. "I challenge you to battleship."

She sniffed and wiped her face clean before examining the paper with refreshed curiosity. "What's that?"

"Whaaat?" I acted aghast. "Crono never taught you how to play battleship? Somebody is a worthless dolt of a boyfriend," I projected loudly enough for the injured party to hear. Crono only spared a second to roll his eyes before going back to getting pummeled in virtual football.

I handed her my pencil and we played battleship. It was a simple, childish invention, not half as spectacular as a video game, but Marle still seemed to enjoy it. Amazingly enough, after a couple of rounds our game lured Crono in, and he traded Marle his control pad for the pencil. He must have gotten tired of getting button-mashed into shame and was looking for a confidence boost, because the contending look on his face plainly said, _I totally own this._

I had no sympathy--I kicked his butt at that game. "Hah!" I crowed after striking out his last ship. "You'll never beat Lucca the Great at battleship! The pen truly is mightier than the sword."

I should learn better than to say things like that in front of Crono, really I should. I am going to say that's the first and only time I've seen someone turn the tables on a game of paper battleship by using a _katana_.

Eventually the late hour wore on us, and everyone decided to retire at once. Ryan departed the same way as Kitty. ("See you tomorrow, man?" "Nah, I'm going to try to get some things straightened out here. I'll let you know when something comes up." "Alright. See you on the boards, then.")

Jerad then shut down his computer, stood up with a stretching yawn and addressed those of us left. "Man, it's been a crazy day... I think I'm going to hit the sack. I'll let you guys know if I get any messages from Ramezia. You still want to meet her, right?"

Marle nodded affirmatively, and Frog backed her up. "Of course!"

"Aye, most definitely."

"I'll see what I can do. Probably won't hear back from her until at least tomorrow. In the meantime, you're all are free to crash here. Um, there's the couch, and some spare pillows in the closet, and..." Jerad trailed off with an ineffectual shrug. "Whatever works for you guys."

What happened to work for us was Crono and Marle taking every pillow they could find, building a mountain of fluff on the floor and then wallowing in it. I stole a musty throw pillow and clung to my own end of the sofa. Ayla bounced restlessly over the cushions before collapsing at the other end, her long legs hanging at odd angles off the side. Frog, in a rare state of ease, squirmed out of his armor and nestled his squat form perfectly into the armchair. Magus and Mishu never came back, and none of us sat up waiting for them. As soon as the lamp was flipped, we almost simultaneously passed out.

I squeezed in maybe one or two hours of nice, sound sleep, but then around midnight I awoke with a harsh start, sweating and shaking for two reasons.

The first was that I had just experienced a nightmare so vivid, violent and utterly screwed-up that I can't even write about it--but I won't deny that the subject was something heavily repressed and close to home. It would've been enough to push me over the edge, if not for the second reason:

I just... felt something... really weird.

I had to sit up and catch my breath before I could grasp what that sensation might have been, as well as why it felt so foreign and familiar at once. Then I felt it again, as sudden and striking as a kick to the gut, and distracting enough to bury my dream in the deepest grave my subconscious had to offer. It left a tingling, burning froth in the pit of my stomach, nothing astringent like that accursed snakebite--or painful at all, really--but really discomfiting, considering I didn't know its source. I flopped over and smothered a moan in my pillow, where I could hear my heart drumming a panicked beat between my ears. What the hell was wrong with me?? Was I sick? Was I _crazy_?

I strangled a yelp as it coursed through me again--a hot flash so poignant it was like getting flayed by a whip from the inside-out. Then it struck me: it was _exactly_ like that strange feeling Crono and I discovered the night before--that weird, warm, touchy... feely thing. But this was a little worse, and not just for the lack of external stimuli. It was a euphoric rash that made me itch in places I wouldn't dare scratch, as pyrogenic as it was inebriating. The heat started to build in soft, persistent strokes, and I grew mortified as I realized that I wasn't just sick or crazy; I was... uh, _excited_. For no discernable reason at all.

No, I assured myself, there had to be some cause. Something--or somebody--somehow was screwing with me, because I sure as hell couldn't do that to myself. ...Not without some effort, anyway.

I drew several long, tempering breaths and threw a questing look around the dark living room. Soft, trilling snores were coming from the chair Frog was sleeping in, and Ayla was sprawled haphazardly over her half of the couch, her mop of blonde hair falling between my feet. I couldn't see anything to tip me off, except--wait. The mountain of pillows was vacant. Crono and Marle were gone? The bolt on the apartment's door was unlatched, too. And then--

"Ah!" Something brushed my leg and I jolted backwards, my head hitting the armrest as my elbows sank into the crack between the sofa's cushions. I didn't even catch her waking up. She just snuck up on me like some prowling beast, one arm staked across my shoulder and caging me to the spot. "Ayla!"

She hovered overhead, dirty blonde curls falling over her brow and framing her face and shoulders like a lion's halo. Her expression bore a heavy-lidded, eager grin that made her look dangerously drunk. True to form, Ayla had no explanation or excuse for spooking me; she merely asked in a husky whisper, "Want play?"

"W-What?" I was stuck, breathless, disoriented and not too keen on the way she was licking her lips and sizing me up with those trenchant eyes.

"Want play? Ayla know, can feel heat, no lie."

I had almost forgotten about that--that Ayla had this sort of extra-sensory perception of other people's conditions. She could sniff out fear, anger, happiness and a range of other emotions as acutely as a pit viper sensing the body heat of its prey. I had no doubt what I must have _smelled_ like to her, and suddenly my cheeks were flushed with as much embarrassment as excitement.

Her grin turned sultry as her hand curled around my thigh, squeezing insistently. I hissed as the fire in my belly leapt and twitched, singeing the tips of all my nerves. "Make heat feel good, have fun..."

_Oh my loving God._ I knew Ayla had an innocent--if hedonistic--penchant for doing whatever she liked, but I'll be damned if I was going to let her do _me_. I didn't care if it was some cultural discrepancy or another of her well-meaning foibles or she simply didn't know any better; I wasn't about to entertain her deviant notion for another second. I shook my head furiously and brought up my legs to kick her away. "N, No!"

She reared back, a muddled look clashing with the flirtatious, predatory one. For a second I thought my point got across, but then she bent closer, that roguish hand kneading the soft spot just above my hipbone, teasing yet persuasive. "Sure? Lucca smell like want. Ayla like, man or woman, no care."

"Y-Yeah, I'm sure, okay?!" I stressed, my voice taking a whining, desperate edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Ayla pouted, but then released me and sulked back into her corner, not forcing the matter. Thank goodness. She was frightening in that state, and I wouldn't know how to hold off that much carnal brawn. I loved Ayla, really, but _not like that_. No offense to her, but first of all, she smelled like a wet dog on a _good_ day--and the dog probably carried a lot less lice. Secondly, I _wasn't into girls_, seriously, and it would be pretty freaking sad to make out with a woman before I even got my first real kiss from a boy. _Shocking_ fact about me, I know.

...Actually, there was this one time, but it didn't count because it was a practical joke, and... Well, that's a story for another day. It was definitely the last thing I wanted to think about while trying to cool off and get back to sleep.

I wiggled as far into my corner of the sofa as I could manage and hugged my knees, reeling from what just sorta-happened and striving not to touch Ayla in even the most incidental way, lest she get another big idea. Thankfully, that unwelcome stirring in my gut had simmered down to something sated and quiet, and I felt strangely relaxed--gratified, almost--although with _what_? What the hell just happened?

I had no idea, but I was suddenly too tired to dwell on it. Sleep came almost despite myself, and I was on the brink of another dream when I overheard something. Whispering--disjointed, distant, right next to me and yet distorted as if through a wall of water.

_'...hilarious, really...'_

It was the black voice...

_'...don't approve of what that neiphiti woman did.'_

Wait, no, that wasn't the voice I knew. The usual black voice hissed, barked and spit gleeful invective. This one was different, undeniably distinct--just as dark, but smoother--calm, cultured, and almost hypnotic. Trying to picture a face to match its dulcet tones only brought to mind an old saying about the Devil having a silver tongue.

_'You think that link will be a problem?'_

Now _that_ was the voice I recognized. So, there were two of them, and they were... talking to each other? Behind my back? The way they were conferring, it sounded as if they didn't want any eavesdroppers. I laid completely still and closed my eyes, feigning slumber--for whatever good it did.

_'I don't know. It's dangerous. If the bond grows too strong, it could trigger a summoning.'_

_'And we wouldn't want that.'_

_'No, that would be disastrous, to say the least. And yet, if it lasts... the seed could contaminate him, too.'_

_'The Traukee? Gwaha! That would be even better.'_

_'Yes, but then it could backfire; the neiphiti's plan could work. Then it would all be for nothing, unless by some miracle we found another seed.'_

_'Well then what should we do? This sounds too risky for my tastes.'_

_'I agree, I'd rather not leave it to chance. The safest thing would be to neutralize that link, before it gets out of hand.'_

What in the world were they talking about? They kept saying _neiphiti_; wasn't that what Masa and Mune called Mishu? This was insane. Was I the only one hearing this? Was it all my imagination? Wouldn't it make more sense to me if it _was_? Maybe I really had slipped into a dream and didn't realize it.

_'Shh. You hear that?'_

And then silence.

There was a rustle at the door, which quietly creaked open. I heard muffled footsteps and giggling, peeped over the side of the couch and found Crono and Marle sneaking back in. Now where had those two clods gone off to so late? As I watched them stalk around in the dark with the furtive giddiness of a couple of kids getting away with mischief, something wretched occurred to me.

The question wasn't where; it was what. And what else might a pair of normal, warm-blooded, besotted teenagers run off alone to do in the middle of the night without notice? And if this _what_ took place in the immediate past--say, ten or fifteen minutes ago--by a freakish stretch of logic, it might account for a certain _disturbance_ that woke me up in the first place.

I had one good chance to confirm my suspicions, and I seized it, reaching out and snagging Crono by the sleeve as he passed by. He gave a jolt of surprise, stopped and blinked at me with recognition that segued into a jest. _Caught me, huh?_

Oh, he had no idea. Even with my knuckles barely grazing his arm I could feel a faint, electric tingle spreading through my hand, although it wasn't enough to make me let go. If anything, I tightened my grip and wrenched him close enough to mutter matter-of-factly, my tone subdued for the others' sakes but still in high dudgeon, "I _felt that_, you know."

Crono stared back, feckless and confused--for about three seconds. Then his jaw dropped and his eyes widened with horrified disbelief. _No, you didn't._

Behind him, Marle was watching all of this with a clueless expression that only fueled my perverse amusement. _Yes I did_, I affirmed silently, and then watched Crono make a flustered circle of gestures that could only be construed as guilty stammering.

I held up a hand, sparing him the effort. "Look, just tone that stuff down until we get this weird... _thing_ sorted out, okay?" At that I rose from the couch and headed for the door, not waiting for any pathetic (and invariably pointless) argument from either of them. All I wanted to do was make Crono think twice before fooling around like that again, and besides, my mother once taught me that it's best to leave on a high note.

As I slipped outside, however, I couldn't resist a wicked little parting shot--something to _really_ leave them guessing, although I sorely hoped Crono didn't miss the irony in my smirk and realized I was kidding. "...Or you could at least invite me, next time."

I forgot to put on my shoes before I made my dramatic exit, but the scandalized look on both their faces was totally worth it.


	13. Bats on the Roof

**13. Bats on the Roof**

Since I wasn't about to get any sleep, I fancied some fresh air, instead. Whenever my train of thought got stuck or I couldn't figure out where my wires got crossed on a machine, I always liked to go outside and pace around until either the great outdoors cleared my head or I got sick of getting eaten alive by the bugs (it would've served me better not to go out like that in the middle of the night, but I can't help that those are my peak hours. I'm a night owl.)

I didn't plan to wander far. I could tell we weren't in the best neighborhood, and even if I was more than capable of roasting, toasting, and burning to a crisp anyone who looked at me the wrong way in a dark alley, I'd rather not have to go to the trouble without even the luxury of _shoes_. It was bad enough that I had left my helmet at home--twice--since I was feeling naked adventuring without it. At least with the bare feet and motor oil smeared on my shirt I was well on my way to looking like an unwashed hobo, so maybe I would fit in more than anything.

When I reached the stairwell, a set of steps going up to the roof presented me with a less hazardous alternative, so up I went. The door at the top opened onto a flat, vacant lot with a brick border, punctuated by crates and pipes. I sat on the edge of the roof and looked out towards the center of the city, mesmerized by the moving lights and colors against the opulent backdrop of skyscrapers and a glass ceiling that gleamed every time lightning flashed.

It never quit raining, wherever and whenever we went. It was too persistent to be a meteorological coincidence. The storms felt like a herald of something important--something we were too shortsighted to see. Could it be connected to the gates, or the Mystics, or the building Magus found under the sea? There just wasn't enough evidence. With any luck, that would change once we finally met Ramezia, but it was hard to imagine that encounter going well. Jerad seemed harmless, if trustworthy, but I hoped we weren't walking into a trap...

"Fuckin' bats in hell."

I jumped and spun around, catching sight of the woman tramping across the roof. She had this wide-set, bullish gait that reminded me just a little of Ayla's right-hand-man, Kino. "Mishu!"

She stopped next to me, standing over the ledge and sharing the view. "First those two lovebirds, and now another a'you. Don't any of you _d'shis_ ever sleep? Can't even get a roof to myself."

"Oh, sorry," I blandly apologized. "Didn't know you were up here. I'll go."

She mellowed. "Nah, fuck it. You can stay. Not like I'm getting any sleep, myself."

I reluctantly sat back down, not wanting to look like she scared me off. "Huh. Misery must love company. At least you're still hanging around," I said, as if that was such a good thing. I couldn't believe we were letting her tag along, after she basically admitted to stalking and exploiting us. Then again, it's not like we hadn't taken on team members on even shakier grounds. Speaking of the devil, "You don't know which way Magus disappeared, do you?"

"Tch, that pasty fuck is flying around here somewhere, like a gods damn dracula. I think he gets off on standing in dark corners and pissing on passers by."

If nothing else, I think her sense of humor was growing on me. "Heh, that wouldn't surprise me."

Mishu was an enigma, one I still wasn't sure I could trust. Since I had her to myself, I figured now was the best time to do something about that--to get to know her a little, maybe. At any rate, I was starting to make up my mind; I didn't believe her story. She was a foreigner, sure, but not enough to pass for a space alien. Her grasp of our language was uncanny, if riddled with expletives. She spoke too well, and knew too much. Maybe, if I asked the right questions, I could catch her...

"So... You're from another planet, right? What's it like?"

She snorted. "Humph. _C'tarot_ is... I don't know. It's not too different from here." She twirled a hand over her head like an apathetic magician. Each fingernail was thick, dark and sharpened to a point, I noticed. "We have bigger cities, and rings in the sky, and a lot more demis, but I guess that's it."

"Demis?"

"Yeah, demi-humans--_neiphiti_, like me. There's lots of regular humans too, and other freaks from other worlds--we get a lot of traffic, y'know, with the gates--but in my experience, things don't change no matter where you go. Same _karatosh_, different planet."

"Oh. Not much of a change, then, huh? What did you used to do back home? Did you have a profession?"

She gave a shifty grin that dissolved into something sour. "I used to... be a soldier. I was in the army."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But then my master died, and I left."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"Hrmph, it doesn't matter." Her head ticked sideways, struck with a thought. "Oh yeah, your folks just got whacked, didn't they? Tough break."

I blanched, looking away. "Don't wanna talk about it."

She gave a dismissive cluck. "Tch, whatever you say. Develop a damn neurosis for all I care."

I swallowed the rebuttal squirming up my throat, my palms biting into the edge of the cement. This woman had less tact than Magus. At least he would call me a simpleton and be done with it.

"Anyway," Mishu moved on. "I worked the streets after that, before I came here."

I breathed. _Forget it. Focus._ "Worked the streets? Like, what, peddling?"

"Heh heh heh... sort of." A grin snaked across her features. "I was more in the exotic entertainment business."

Just because I live on an island doesn't mean I'm a sheltered dullard--I've been stuck in the company of Crono's crass friends, after all. I knew what that euphemism stood for. I just wasn't sure I wanted to hear it correctly. "You mean you--and--for...?"

"Fuck for a buck?" she put it bluntly. "More or less, yeah."

"You're a... prostitute... That's... nice..." I stammered graciously. I went up to the roof to get away from sex, and I run into a whore. Fantastic.

"We're actually called exotic mages, since we work with magic."

Curiosity gets the better of me, sometimes. "Huh? How..." _Do not ask how that works. Just, stop._ I buried another blush in my hands. "You know what? Don't tell me. Please."

Mishu chortled devilishly. "Heheheh, as you wish."

Something she said earlier suddenly came back to me. "Wait a second, you saw Crono and Marle up here?" Thankfully I caught myself before I asked whether she had been watching something she shouldn't have. That would have been a dumb question I _really_ didn't want the answer to.

"Yeah, they just went downstairs. Why, you lookin' for 'em?"

"Er, no. Not really." It was definitely time to change the subject. Speaking of euphemisms... "You haven't been on this planet very long, have you? How is it you speak our language so well?"

She laughed outright. "Hah. That's the funny part. I don't."

That was the last answer I was expecting. "What?"

She let me stew in that paradox before elaborating. "It's called TLS, and hell if I remember what it stands for." She then paused to consider it. "T-L-Something... _Telepathic Language Synchronization_, yeah. It's a psychic thing. Most dragons can use it, and since I'm half dragon I made the cut. It was part of my training. Peacekeepers are trained to do operations on all kinds of alien worlds, so it's a skill that comes in handy."

"Really? So how does it work, exactly?"

"Fuck if I can explain it," she said gruffly. "It's a mind trick. See, the way it works, I don't actually know any of the words coming out of your mouth right now. I'm just reading the part of your brain that turns your thoughts into words, and linking it to the same part of my brain. So what happens is we're both talking in our own languages, but we understand each other because the idea behind the words gets to our brains before the actual words do."

I wasn't sure whether to be astonished, incredulous or just appalled. "Whoa, whoa, wait. Let me see if I get this: you're using telepathy on me _right now_, as we speak."

"Yep."

"No," I said flatly. "I don't believe it."

"Why, is it any more _karatosh_ than a scribe spell or shooting fire out of your hands? Magic makes even less damn sense than psychic powers."

I gave her that one. "Touché. So, you can read all my thoughts?" I asked, discomfited by the prospect.

"No, just the ones you're about to say out loud. It's too much fuckin' work to read anybody's mind past that, and I suck at it, anyway."

"So... it's like standing on the bridge between conceptual and verbal thought. You can only hear what's crossing over." That was a relief, I... guess? Unless she was lying? Or imposing her version of the truth directly over my thoughts? I wasn't comfortable with the idea at all, and not just because it was metaphysical as hell. "What about when you're with a group of people? Wouldn't that make it more difficult?"

"Not really. I just leave my mind open while I'm listening, and make sure everyone I'm talking to is in my line of sight."

I shook my head, amazement winning over disbelief. "That's incredible. But wait, if you have so much control over cognitive interpretation, wouldn't you be able to implant a thought that doesn't, ah, sync-up with what someone's saying?"

She gave me a screwy look. "Maybe? I guess, but why the fuck would I want somebody to mishear what I'm saying? That would be the most useless superpower ever."

"Huh, I suppose..." I relented.

"Eh, I don't know..." she drawled, reconsidering it. "I'm sure there are people like that, who can royally fuck with people's heads or put words in other people's mouths, but that's the really hardcore stuff. I can't do anything that advanced. TLS is basic-level telepathy. It just scratches the surface--you don't have to think too hard to use it."

"It's still amazing... and a little creepy," I admitted.

Mishu shrugged, unfazed. "Whatever, it works. The great thing about TLS is, if you hang around a group of people long enough, you pick up their language naturally. I've been on this planet a few weeks and I think I've got a lot of it down."

"Including the bad words, huh?" I quipped.

She grinned like a fox. "My favorites."

I recalled the choice words Frog's sword had for Mishu when she first appeared. "Say, why did Masa and Mune get so upset when they saw you? You've never met them before, have you?"

She scowled. "Who? You mean that fuckin' loudmouthed sword? I don't know what those little shits were going on about." Her mien suddenly sobered. "...It is funny, though."

"What is?"

"They mentioned Genova, the neiphiti home world."

"You're neiphiti, aren't you? Is that the world you came from?"

She shook her head. "I was born on C'tarot. Genova is..." Her expression fixed somewhere distant. "Not a single one of my kind has set foot on Genova since the last Dragon War, and that was thousands of years ago. Nobody knows where it is, much less if it actually exists. Some people don't believe in it."

"Oh..." It was ancient history, then, and a conflict carried over a dozen millennia. "Maybe Masa and Mune were talking about your ancestors, then. Those two have been around a really long time."

"Who knows. If they really are from back then, they were probably on the wrong side of the war." Mishu shrugged glumly. "Not that there was a right side. According to the old books, everyone lost."

"You said you were in the army. Is C'tarot a peaceful world now?"

I didn't see what was funny about my question, but she snorted hard. "Heh! So they say." She then said with an acerbic edge that suggested another change of topic, "The archmage is in charge of the place, now. It's peaceful if he says it is. I don't give a fuck."

There was so much more I wanted to ask about her home planet, but just my luck, I never got the chance. "My turn for questions," a heavy voice interrupted, accompanied by the tell-tale swish of a cloak. We whipped around just as Magus approached us.

Mishu frowned and rustled her wings while I got a grip on the roof. "Geez, don't sneak up on us! What are you doing up here?" I accosted him.

He didn't waste any breath to answer me, instead holding out a thick, dust-colored book in one hand. "Where did you get this?"

"The fuck should I know--" Mishu started, but then Magus snapped, "Shut up, Bat."

Magus rarely called any of us by name, as a point of insult--just to show that we weren't important enough to remember. When he wasn't referring to us collectively ("damn kids," "cretins," etc.) he used a very crude set of nicknames that made "Robo" sound positively ingenious in comparison. For the record, they were: Princess (said only in the most scathing tone possible), Stupid, Useless, the frog (the key was his refusal to personalize the noun), Woman, and Robot (see Frog.) Often these monikers were preceded by a colorful metaphor ("Get out of my way, damn fat robot" etc.)

He waved the book at me, letting a glint of orange streetlight catch on the gold foil of the cover. "You, Useless. Where did you get this?"

Guess which one of us was Useless. I bristled. "Wha'do you mean, 'where did I get that'? What is that? Where did you find it?"

"It was in your attic."

"My attic? Hey, wait a second..." I remembered. It was that book he picked up while I was retrieving the Gate Key. "You pocketed it? You thief!"

"It's not stealing if it's already mine," he deadpanned, and I had to gape and wonder furiously at the wizard.

"What the heck does that mean??"

"Whoa, hang on, here," Mishu intervened, plucking the book out of Magus's loose grasp. A long look of shock dawned on her as she fluttered through the pages. "Fuck me in hell, is this the _T'torlan_?" Her gaze fell back to me as she chorused, "Where did you get this?"

I directed a withering look to Magus, all the while racking my brain for a relevant memory. "Well _apparently_ it's not mine, so maybe you should ask _him_."

If it came out of my attic, there was no telling where it originally came from or when it got tossed up there. The attic was typically the resting place of junk my dad bought from the market or in a yard sale, tinkered with for a couple of days, and then left on a countertop until my mom got sick of looking at the thing and demanded my dad dispose of it. Since my dad was as much of a packrat as he was a capricious shopper ("I got a great deal on it! It could come in handy!") he tended to let things pile up over our heads.

Magus took the tome back and indulged us, to our surprise. "It used to belong to my castle's library. It's a catalogue of magic, among other things. I referenced it heavily when mixing spells and invoking spirits."

"Yeah, I fuckin' know what the _T'torlan_ is," Mishu asserted, her tone almost accusing. "What I don't know is what you two bumblefucks are doing with a copy like that."

"I have no idea," I openly admitted. "How do you know about it, Mishu? Have you read it before on your world?"

She leveled a cautious look at me, as if I had just made a blasphemous suggestion. "Fuck no! It's impossible. It's written in _Tri-Xi_, the old dragon language. It's supposed to be a holy book, written by the espers themselves."

"Espers?" I echoed, still lost.

"Yeah, fuckin' espers! The summoned. Bahamut and all them lot. You people know the _T'torlan_ but never heard of espers??"

I shook my head warily, at a loss. _Bahamut..._ Did I know that name? It seemed familiar. I heard the black voice babble thickly, _'...curse'i'd bas...!'_

"Someone's tampered with this copy, though," Magus noted, holding the book open and pinching one of the pages. "It looks like it was translated."

"Seriously?" I stood up and peered at the book, interested. He showed me where, between every single page, a leaf of fresh paper had been inserted. The contrast between the delicate, yellowed text of the original and the scrawling penmanship of the "translation" was painfully obvious. "And it wasn't like that when you had it? I wonder who could have done that."

Magus regarded me narrowly. "You know nothing, then?" Four hundred years and too many possible suspects. Did he consider me one of them?

I shrugged. I was getting a weird hunch--more of that scientific curiosity, if you will. "Honestly? I don't remember ever seeing it before. But if you let me look at it for a while, it might jog my memory."

He held back for a moment, suspiciously reluctant, but then shut the book with a whump and passed it to me. "Have at it."

"Will do." I tucked it under my arm and rocked on my toes, growing restless in the lull that had fallen over the three of us. Mishu made some noncommittal grunt and turned away, and Magus did the same, each going back to their own corners. Didn't they ever sleep? I was one to talk, I supposed. "I, uh, guess I'll head back downstairs... Good night Mishu, Magus."

"Later," and "Useless," came back to me, respectively, and I rolled my eyes and left. I didn't even want to know what those two did with themselves the rest of the night.

I slipped back through the (thankfully unlocked) door to Jerad's apartment and found everyone else snoring. As much of a good idea as it was, sleep just wasn't happening for me, so I paced aimlessly around the flat, looking for inspiration. The book Magus gave me was a tempting read, but I wasn't really in the mood for delving into ancient alien scripture, especially with Jerad's computer sitting dormant on an invitingly vacant desk. I really wanted to, oh, test it out (a proper scientist doesn't "play" with such things, no sir), but an inkling of ettiquete held me at bay. It wasn't like the huge, abandoned terminals we found in those run-down domes and factories; this was more like personal property. I wasn't going to trespass on Jerad's hospitality, so I left the computer alone. Maybe if I asked nicely, he would show me what it does and how it works.

My definition of "trespassing" didn't include the kitchen cupboards, evidently, and before long I was sticking my nose in the cabinet beneath the sink, looking for all the fun stuff your parents tell you not to play with. ("It's not playing! It's chemistry," used to be my excuse. It rarely worked.) House cleaners, bleach, peroxides...

A bottle of "Berto's Tree Stump Remover." I held it up to the tiny kitchen light, bemused. What in the world would a guy living in a place like this have any use for a chemical _stump remover_? I unscrewed the lid and examined the dull granules inside; it looked like a jar of badly ground coffee. "Hello, potassium nitrate..." I murmured suggestively at the ingredients label, an idea stirring in the back of my head.

If I wasn't going to get any sleep, I might as well get something done.

I found the rest of the ingredients as they occurred to me: aluminum foil, sandpaper, a box of matches, crazy glue, craft paper, and a cracked egg in the refrigerator. I wasn't sure what I was doing, really--I was having a bout of what I liked to call "spontaneous inventing," where I build first and ask questions later. It's a lot like free form art or writing, only the results are prone to shoot sparks or explode. The entire point of the exercise is not to think about what I'm building until it's finished. It's not my fault my stream of consciousness likes high voltage and volatile chemicals.

Jerad had enough loose tools and scrap metal scattered over his kitchen to decorate a minefield (which made me wonder if and how he ever prepared _food_ in the place), and I adopted the workspace as if it were my own desk at home. I tiptoed everywhere, working quietly if diligently until a moment's diversion became several hours'. It was numbingly nostalgic, reminding me of all the nights I spent under a lukewarm lamp in my living room, trying to build not-junk out of junk while my parents slept upstairs, oblivious. I didn't always have something worth showing off in the morning, but usually the act of creation was more rewarding than the result.

...I wonder if it's a little sad that some of my fondest childhood memories are of working alone in the dark.

"Pst, Crono. Crono, wake up!" I was twelve years old and banging on his window at eight in the morning all over again. (He used to have a ladder in his back yard, almost expressly for coming and going from that window, but the oaf broke it--I can't remember how long ago.) "You have to see what I made."

I was whispering, trying to tone down my eagerness. It wasn't even eight, this time--it was barely seven o'clock, and though a hint of sunrise was seeping through the kitchen, the rest of the apartment was still asleep. Crono groggily rolled aside, squinted at me, slapped his hands together and then made a gun sign. _Does it shoot toast?_

He was referring to Toastbot, which I once made out of some broken appliances in his house and an alarm clock. Want hot, fresh toast delivered automatically every morning? Coming right up! ...At no less than twenty-five meters per second. I assure you, for toast, that is almost lethally fast. In Crono's esteemed opinion, it's the greatest thing I ever made, probably since he used it to paint the walls of his kitchen with crumbs and jelly. His mother was absolutely _livid_. Toastbot died a year later in a tragic instance of spontaneous combustion. May it rest in pieces.

"No, it's not Toastbot! It's even better, I swear." I could have been exaggerating. A little.

He rolled back into his mound of pillows. _Do not want. Come back with toast._

"Oh, you lazy pig!" I hissed, buffeting his shoulder until that folly hit me in recoil. I cradled the scorched nerves in my arm and sat back, cowed. "Sorry, sorry... I forgot."

Crono sat up and rubbed his own arm, glaring at me.

"Oh com'on, I said sorry. Now com'ere, I wanna show you this!"

He gave a smoldering sigh and crawled to his feet, mindful of Marle, who was still dozing a pillow away. I dragged him into the kitchen and told him to close his eyes and hold out his hand--hey, a dramatic presentation is half the fun. He grudgingly complied and I gingerly placed my handiwork in the middle of his palm. Crono looked at it blankly for several seconds, turning over the plain, smooth white capsule. _It's an egg._

I beamed with mischief. "It's a flash bomb."

He immediately handed it back to me, alarmed.

"Ahahah, oh com'on, it won't go off unless you drop it! Perfectly safe. Makes you wonder which came first: the chicken or the bomb."

He groaned at my joke and scrubbed his face, wiping off enough sleep to look ruffled. _You woke me up for that? Didn't you sleep last night?_

Like hell. "A little."

I got that damn _You're lying_ look again, though since he was half awake it only made him look hung over.

I crossed my arms and said pettishly, "Don't look at me like that! I made myself _useful_, I'll have you know. I spent all night refitting the ammo for my gun with flash charges." I indicated the space I had cleared on the kitchen table, where tiny shells were scattered around piles of flash powder.

Crono's gaze rather dwelled on the book resting on the corner, the arcane one with the gold-stamped cover. It must have stood out amidst the sprawl of tools, metal bits and moldy sandwich crusts. "Oh, that. Magus said he found it in my attic," I answered his question.

He stared a while longer in a drowsy stupor, and then drifted back towards the living room, waving it all off. _Great. Back to sleep now._

I stuck my tongue out after him. "Oh fine, you wet blanket."

I saved the egg for later and got back to work, making more flash pellets. It was another hour before Jerad woke up, and if the rest of the apartment wasn't awake by then, they certainly were once he plodded out of his room, passed by my table, stopped, doubled back, digested the evidence and threw a fit.

"You're making bombs in my kitchen!!"

* * *

A/N: In case anyone was wondering, I pronounce Ramezia with a silent 'e' (ram-zee-uh) and Mishu/Myshu with a long 'e' sound (me-shoe). And then there's _cee-tair-aut_, _tee-tor-lan_ and _nay-fee-tee_ (although when I say it fast it comes out 'nuh-fee-tee'.)  
But that's all in my head--it's totally fiction and doesn't matter, of course. I'm not the type to get all grammar-nazi about it, since most of the time my own guesses on "official" names are horribly off the mark (I'm looking long and hard at YOU, Squeenix. Tidus = Tight Ass jokes don't work anymore, thanks to you.) I'm not even sure how to say Marle (suggestions welcome?)

Speaking of names, it's been so long since I created Liquel's character that I utterly forgot where his name came from--until the other day, when my brother-in-law was replaying Monster Rancher 2 (a very quirky and novel game series, if you haven't tried it.) Liquel is the name of a hare/gali that appears in the tournaments. It must have stuck to me when I was watching him play aeons ago.

So, wow, that's... obscure and hokey as hell. Good job, past me.


	14. Put Out

**14. Put Out**

We all ate leftover pizza for breakfast and then sat down to plan our day. We were waiting for Ramezia to reply to Jerad, but he checked the messages on his computer and swore she hadn't sent him one yet. "She's normally not this hard to reach, sorry, " he apologized anyway.

Marle voiced some concern over Magus and Mishu's whereabouts, and I reminded her that going on a hunt for the former would be pointless, since Magus was like a damn cat and tended to come and go whenever he pleased. I was going to add that he wouldn't go too far without the Gate Key, but then I realized something: once Mishu showed him how she had been activating the gate rings, he wouldn't need it anymore. And if he didn't need the Gate Key, then he didn't need any of us, and he could tear off through the gates on his own pursuits.

I wasn't sure whether that prospect was worth worrying about--Jerad was still our best lead to Ramezia, after all--so I decided not to mention it.

Around the same time, Marle had a revelation of her own. "Hey guys? I just noticed, we're almost out of jerky and biscuits."

"Methinks it prudent to restock our provisions, then," Frog suggested the obvious.

"I guess we can buy some food in town?" Marle supplied hopefully.

I had to be the downer to point out, "But we don't have any money."

Crono reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of coins that couldn't have bought a cup of coffee, even if they were current. "None we can use," I amended.

"Hmm..." Marle studied the floor for a moment, and then bounced up. "Okay, we'll just go out and make some!"

Not to be critical, but... "Just like that? In a weird town we know nothing about? What exactly do you plan to do?"

"Don't think so much about it!" she cheerfully declared. I was starting to believe that was Marle's _motto_. "Just leave it to me. I'll find something. Want to come with me, Ayla?"

Ayla threw herself feet-first over the sofa, springing upright and ready. "Ayla go! Get boring here."

Frog rose as well, tucking his sword covertly behind his cloak. "I shall accompany thee."

Marle nodded, gladly accepting company. "Great! It'll be like sightseeing! This is going to be fun."

Crono got up too, of course, and that made a party. He asked if I was following in a glance, but I stayed on the couch. "Eh... I'll pass, guys."

"You sure?" Marle pried, and I waved her off.

"Yeah, sure. I've got some things I can do here." Like keeping an eye out for Magus, and looking through that book he found while I was at it.

"Okay, then..." she said with a touch of disappointment that plucked a hidden nerve.

"You guys will be back later, then? I'll keep the place open for you," Jerad offered.

Crono nodded thanks and then waved Marle and the others out. _Ladies first._

"Okay! Bye Lucca! Have fun with Jerad." Marle winked at me and then slipped away.

I squinted at the closing door, slightly miffed. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Maybe the lack of sleep was making me moody, but I didn't want to waste my strength running circles around the block when there were other things on my mind. I didn't have the princess's inexhaustible energy.

Jerad leaned over the back of the sofa and peered at me like some skittish bird. "I, uh, think we have a lot to talk about."

"Heh..." I could only imagine. We never really answered any of his questions about the gates and what we were doing with them. "No kidding. Well? Where should we start?"

I can't remember where we started. He was way too shy and stuttered a lot--not the confrontational type, I could tell. Once I started asking the right questions about his projects--and showed that I knew what the hell he was talking about--Jerad finally loosened up and spilled everything. It was supposed to be all business, but we sidetracked a lot--hey, it's not like I get a chance every day to discuss relativity, quantum jump theory and time compression with a fellow scientist.

We talked about the Network, the modern government and Free Bandwidth. We talked about history, both written and experienced. We talked about Jerad's old university, and books I would never see in my day, and stories forgotten in his day. We talked about artificial intelligence--and joked about natural stupidity. I wish I could list everything we talked about, but it was all such a rambling whirl I can barely recall it; ninety percent was total nerd jargon, anyway. I had never connected _intellectually_ with someone as well as I did with Jerad, and it was really refreshing, even if he was only interested in speaking with me because I had traveled through time--through the gate rings he helped build, in particular.

Eventually, somehow, hours later, we got to the point. "So, how do you all know Ramezia?"

I shrugged. "We've only just heard of her. Ever since my friends and I discovered those gate rings, we've been looking for the person behind them. Someone mentioned her name when we were asking around, but that person didn't know anything about who she was or where she came from."

Jerad adjusted his glasses, looking thoughtful. "I see... So you don't know her any better than we do."

"Afraid not."

"So, how did you discover the gates?"

Without saying too much... "Honestly? Completely by chance. Out of all of us, it was Magus who had our first encounter with one. The rest of us kinda followed suit." True on all counts, relatively speaking, even considering Lavos. Damn, I'm good.

"Then where did you get that Gate Key?"

"You really want to know?"

"I'm dying to," he said emphatically, eyes bright with enquiry.

I couldn't help myself. I grinned impishly. "You said Dr. LEA invented it, right? And that you found he--his research on the Network?"

Jerad nodded, and I sat up and pointed a look at his computer console. "Show me."

I stood over his shoulder and watched as he sat at the desk and keyed in the access address to "The University of Porre Archives." Pages blurred across the screen as he fumbled over a search function. "Almost everything is scanned into their database," he explained as he typed. "It's supposed to only be open to students and faculty, but there's a crack here..."

Before we got any further, a scream broke the air. It sounded like a girl's, and it came from outside--somewhere really close. Jerad and I exchanged one quick, bewildered look and then bolted to the kitchen window. The street looked clear at first glance, and I had to crawl across a barren flower box (Jerad wasn't much a home gardener, apparently--so now the tree stump remover made even _less_ sense) before I could discern the trouble. There was a gang of people at the threshold of the alley next to the building, mostly guys--five, maybe six of them--and one of them was holding a struggling lady.

"Let me--go, you--creep!" she choked while thrashing around the one-armed grip of the leader. He was a young-looking ruffian sporting carrot-red, shaggy hair and a green bandana. There was a knife in his free hand, I noticed.

Jerad nearly pushed me out the window as he threw himself towards that voice. "Allie!?"

The lady gasped and threw a stretching look up to us. "Jerad!!"

The leader followed her gaze and cocked a humored grin. "Oh, hey there, Jerad!" he shouted with mock congeniality, brandishing his captive. "This yours?"

Jerad was fuming. "Chuck!! Let Allie go!"

He laughed. "What? I was just showing her a little South Street hospitality!"

Right then another figure bounded up the sidewalk, and I couldn't mistake that green cape and leaping gait within a hundred miles. "Frog?!"

If he heard me, he didn't spare a second to acknowledge it. Frog arrowed towards the group, planted his feet squarely on the pavement and fixed his quicksilver-amber eyes on Chuck. The gang shrank a notch at his impetuous arrival, but then dropped their guard as snickers broke out.

"What the-?"  
"Who the hell are you?"  
"Heheh, nice costume."

Frog's gaze never flickered. "Dost this rabble harass thee, madam?"

"I--it--" Allie stammered, before Chuck jerked her back and away, tightening his hold. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he fired at Frog, whose steely look only narrowed as the Masamune rang out of its hidden sheath.

"I'rt afraid I must ask thee to step aside."

The other guys balked, as amused as they were amazed. "Haha, is this for real?" "Geez, is that a real sword?"

"I wouldst unhand that maiden, before I art compelled to use it."

I knew Frog wasn't kidding when he used that tone. Too bad the other guys weren't so intuitive--their laughter cracked across the bricks in brash echoes.

"Hahaha!"  
"Holy hell, are you serious? Get a load of this freak."  
"What're you supposed to be, some kind of frog knight?"  
"Get lost, froggy boy. Why don't you go back to whatever toadstool you came from and mind your own business?"

On that note, seeing what was coming, I squirmed back out of the window, sprinted out the door and down the stairs, racing to the action. Not that Frog needed it, but I was going to give him a little back-up. I totally wasn't hurrying to watch him beat the crap out of a bunch of thug losers, really. Jerad was two beats behind me, and while we missed the initial clash, the second round of the scuffle was about to begin by the time we caught up.

"What the--?!"

"What're you guys waiting for?" Chuck's voice was blaring, commanding, "Fuck him up!!"

Frog didn't even need to use his sword. The first guy was rammed into the wall with a crunchy wail, the next was flipped over Frog's shoulder after a poorly swung punch, the third took a solid fist to the gut, the fourth was dropped by the weight of the third, and the fifth had the good sense to flee, dragging the others with him. In less than thirty seconds Chuck was left on his own, clinging to his captive and staring down the cold blade of the Masamune.

"I am not one with whom thou wouldst wish to fuck," Frog said simply, dangerously. Chuck's hold on Allie slackened as he backed away, struck with a mix of outrage and fear. "You... you fuckin' freak!" he yelled while running away.

Allie stood breathless, in awe of what just transpired. Jerad jumped straight to her, gripping her shoulders and nearly hollering in unchecked panic, "Allie!? Are you okay?"

"Jerad! Oh my gosh! That frog person saved me!" She blinked, her senses returning with a rush of gratitude. "Um, thank you, Mister Frog!"

I stepped forward, making a point to congratulate him. "Now see, Frog, _that_ was badass."

I hoped that odd croak he made was him accepting a compliment and not nausea, because he looked like he was going to throw up and with frogs it's kinda hard to tell. "I couldst not bear to see a lady in such peril," was all he said.

Jerad shook his head, aghast. "Allie, I'm so sorry. Chuck and those guys, they're just assholes. You sure you're alright?"

Allie nodded quickly. "Um, yeah..." I got my first good look at her: curly black hair, long nose, high heels, bright pink leather vest with spangles, low-cut jeans and runny mascara. Something about her bearings and high, vacuous voice was awfully familiar. Then with a wide, wary look at me and Frog, she asked, "Jerad, who are these people?"

"Hey Frog, what are you doing back here anyway?" I asked at the same time. "I thought you were out with the others."

Frog nodded. "Aye, I..."

"Heeeeeey!"

Speaking of the devils, we looked down the street and there they were, jogging to meet us. Crono was toting a bag of what I guessed were provisions, and Marle was waving her arm as if to flag us down. She stopped short of our odd gathering, sensed something amiss and asked, "Whoa, what's going on? Is everybody all right?"

"All is well," Frog assured.

"Ayla smell piss and fear," she noted blandly as she sniffed around the corner.

"Yeah, that was those guys crapping their pants while Frog sent them packing," I explained, garnering several strange looks from the fresh arrivals.

Marle regarded Allie brightly. "Oh, hi there! My name is Marle, and..." Round three.

"At least everyone's all right," Jerad determined, looking around with a flush of relief. "Let's head back up, okay?"

We exchanged stories on the way back upstairs. It seemed acquiring money was no problem once Marle discovered a flyer offering a reward for a missing dog. Ayla used her superhuman tracking skills to hunt it down, and Marle used her royal negotiating skills to convince Ayla not to slaughter the poor thing ("What? Marle say 'hunt'! That what hunt means!") With the dog brought back in one piece to its rightful owner, the group shopped to their heart's content. I could tell Crono had been placed in charge of the food, because most of the rations looked to be cheese sticks and jerky. I couldn't complain.

Just as we regrouped in Jerad's apartment, Allie yanked Jerad aside, and I overheard her whisper harshly, "Can we talk...?"

"Um, sure, of course..." Jerad yielded, and he excused the pair as they stepped into the outside hall. We were treated almost immediately to the escalating volume of an argument, heard plain as day through the wall. Our party, being the epitome of ethics, sat still and listened to the unfolding drama.

("Jerad! Who are all these freaks in your apartment??")  
("They're just people, I, uh--")  
("And that girl! I don't see you in four days and you let some weird girl--")  
("H-Hey, what--")  
("Oh my GAWD I can't believe I almost got mugged by those guys and you're just hanging out with some strange weirdos--")

"Wow. Awk-ward," Marle sang in a low key.

("No no, it's just--")  
("You don't even call or text me and Kitty is so mean--")  
("They're just--the project--")  
("--you only care about that stupid project and you promised to take me shopping at DeVan's last week but Ryan says you're not even getting paid!")  
("Wait, Kitty doesn't--")  
("You weren't really at Death Peak, were you?")  
("Ryan--what?? Allie, I--")

Their quarrel--and by 'quarrel' I mean Allie ranting and raving while Jerad pitched lame, delayed half-sentences--carried on for several minutes. Many of Allie's lines struck a chord, that painfully familiar one, until one in particular tipped me off.

("Why didn't you just save me the trouble and let that guy stab me right in the BACK--")

I gaped in horror as the key memory dropped like a penny into a piggybank. "Oh my God. _Crono_," I said sharply, getting his attention, and after a second he met me with a duly mortified expression--he knew what I was going to say. "Stacy didn't breed; she _reincarnated_."

Time out. Let me tell you about Stacy.

Never get me wrong; I like Marle. She's kind, energetic, cheerful, assertive, athletic, and always has your back in a fight. She's not always the brightest bulb, but she has her clever moments. (She also speaks three languages--not too well, but it's more than I can pull off. Unless empirical formulae and pig latin count as languages.) I'm glad she's Crono's girlfriend, because she's a bloody saint compared to Crono's last one.

Stacy. was. an. idiot. I don't mean she was the sweet kind of girl who means well but just doesn't make good marks. Crono made straight D's his whole life in history class (D's! In damn history. The irony is astounding) but I still put up with the lug. No, Stacy had that very special brand of stupidity that should be illegal. If I were in charge of things, I would have people like Stacy locked up before they do society more harm than good. I said so at one point, while they were dating (not even serious!) and Crono got defensive, telling me to quit judging people based on intelligence. We almost got into a fight.

I'm not exaggerating, though. Since we went to school together, I had plenty of opportunities to bask in Stacy's sheer stupidity.  
She's so dumb she thought a veterinarian was a doctor who treats war veterans. She once told the class she was 'illegitimate' because she couldn't read well. She thought "socialists" were people who liked to party. She tried to return a jigsaw puzzle, claiming it was broken because the pieces didn't fit (they were turned over.) She once climbed a chain-link fence to see if her football was on the other side (it wasn't, as we all could see.) She thought that ice fishing was what people did to get the ice that's put in the fish buckets in the market.  
Back in the third grade she broke her hand in a closing door and tried to get herself excused from math lessons the next day by saying she couldn't count to ten anymore--so okay, I give her points for trying, there, but unfortunately her ingenuity peaked at the age of nine. Another time she tried to get into the adult section of the bookstore with two of her (also underage) friends by pointing at the "Under 17 Not Admitted" sign and saying, "It's okay, we just need fourteen more people!"

It's not as if she was a helpless child, either; the girl was fifteen, and her parents had more money than Crono's and mine combined. She was just dangerously dumb.

And yet, I could forgive Stacy all that--kind of like how I forgive Marle for sniggering, "Hehe, butts..." every time we pass an imp (Crono called one a 'butthead' and she never quit finding that funny.) However, Stacy wasn't just stupid; she was a controlling, paranoid bitch as well. I avoided Crono's house for a couple of miserable months because I couldn't stand to see her, and then she had the gall to accuse me of sabotaging their relationship (except she kept pronouncing 'sabotage' like, 'stabbobage, in the _back_,' so it was hard to keep a straight face that whole time.) Which was completely absurd, but I didn't knock her teeth out right there out of respect for Crono (it had nothing to do with the fact that she was five-foot-nine and captain of our school's football team--not cheerleader, _captain_. Really.)

Anyway, I let it all slide for a while, until I was running into town one day to pick up some tools and spotted Stacy mackin' on some other guy in broad daylight. Stupid whore. (Okay, so they weren't smack in the middle of the street or anything, but I was taking a shortcut through this neighborhood I knew and almost bumped into them.) I ran to tell Crono about it, and he told me in no kind words to grow up, so I told him to go screw.

I was unbelievably hurt--I never, ever fought with Crono. Over anything. Yelled at him for being an idiot, sure, but never actually _fought_. That's when I decided that bitch had to go, so okay, yes, I became a _stabbobage_. Since Stacy was dumb enough to do her whoring in public, it was easy to set a trap that all concerned parties could stumble across. I did feel a sliver of guilt as I watched the carnage unfold, but only enough to not tell Crono 'I told you so.'

I remember sitting on a park bench after it was all over--looking too smug for my own good, perhaps--when Crono found me. One look at the devastated betrayal written all over him was enough to wipe my smirk off like a slap to the face.

At least he was direct. _You were the one behind this, weren't you?_

"Maybe..." I hedged, suddenly a lot less pleased with myself. He gave me that look, the one that always breaks my equivocations, and I buckled. "Okay yes. Guilty as charged."

Crono threw out his arm, exasperated. _You set all this up and let me walk right into it??_

"Only because you didn't believe me the first time!" I fired back, on the brink of tears. I hated fighting with Crono--it made me sick.

He didn't even have the strength of nerve to yell at me. He just sat down on the other end of the bench, utterly defeated. I was torn between running away and saying something stupidly honest--or honestly stupid. Either way, I couldn't stand seeing him like that. "I'm sorry. I was trying to look out for you. I thought you'd find out eventually--better sooner than later."

After a heavy pause, he nodded, his gaze cemented to the ground. _...I know._

I didn't feel like the good guy--if anything, I felt worse. I wanted to say something comforting--'You're better off,' 'She didn't deserve you,' 'It'll be okay in time'--but none of that sounded natural. It was just a bunch of hokey crap.

Instead I ended up saying, because my people skills are freaking brilliant, "Stupid whore. Why'd you put up with her for so long?"

Crono laughed a flat, mirthless note, and then admitted dully--because he didn't have a sign for it and I sure as hell didn't want to learn one, "She put out."

I snorted. "Yeah, so I noticed. Damn, Crono... You are not some big ugly chud. You can get any girl to put out that you want. Hell, _I_ would've put out if it would've gotten you to dump that bitch sooner."

He snapped up, giving me a long, funny look.

"I wasn't serious, geez. Get real."

He huffed, shaking his head, but then smiled. It was a slight thing, barely noticeable, but it was the first one I got to see from him in two long months, and it almost made everything better. At length he said in a well-used string of gestures, _You wanna go down to the ranch?_

I smiled back. "They close their gate at six, silly."

He thumped his chest and made a running circle sign. _Like that's ever stopped us before._

"Heh. I think we've shot out all their windows by now."

Crono held an arrow sign over his head, and then stood and waved for me to follow. _Nah, there's still that weathervane. Let's check it out._

We snuck into the ranch on the outskirts of town where there's an abandoned, derelict storehouse and took out every single last damn window in the place with slingshot and rocks. It was wonderfully cathartic. That's the night I knew a girl would never get between our friendship again.

Anyway, I digress. I was talking about Jerad's girlfriend? That must have been why I blurted out, "Why do nice guys always go for dumb-as-brick girls??"

"Hey, that's not true..." Marle mildly objected, as if something I said hit close to home. Before I could make a defense, Crono gave the same answer he did the last time I asked that (God forbid, rhetorical) question.

"Because they put out."

Marle gasped and punched his arm. "Crono!" Her scandalized look quickly gave out to giggles. "That wasn't nice."

"Yeah, looks like that makes you two exempt," I jibed.

"Hah, yep!" It took her a minute. "...Hey!"

* * *

A/N: Still tweaking my style, here. Hopefully I'm getting better. First person fic is fun, if a challenging break from my usual stuff.

Thanks to everyone still reading! We'll get out of this city eventually, I swear.


	15. The Magic Book

**15. The Magic Book**

Jerad eventually pacified his girlfriend by offering to take her into town, and to this end he stuck his head around the door and asked if we could watch his apartment until he got back.

Marle was as amazed as the rest of us by the request. "Really? You trust us here alone?"

He cracked a faint, harried grin and jested, "Sure. Just don't blow the place up, okay?"

I stumbled over a laugh. "Heh, eheh, sure." If he only knew he was asking a virtual pyromaniac.

Jerad's eyes lighted on me, and he snapped his fingers with a reminder. "Oh! Lucca, I'm still going to show you that--"

Allie's whining call sounded from the end of the outside hall. "Jer-ad...!"

He flinched, finishing his thought with, "Um, later." Then he scurried off. Crono cracked an invisible whip after him, and Marle tittered.

Ayla wrinkled her nose with disapproval. "Girl mean and loud! Ayla no like. Jerad not strong man, though."

"Would not be the first man belittled by beauty," Frog remarked.

Marle looked around the entrusted furnishings, focus falling on the dirty magazine propped under the broken corner of a bookshelf. "What do we do, now?"

The answer was more movies and video games, which was fine by me. Both were fun to watch, even if I was more preoccupied with the book Magus gave (back to?) me. I sat at the end of the couch and studied it under a lamp while everyone played with Jerad's v-screen. I had meant to go through it sooner--I mean, I like books, and this one looked more interesting than most--but for some reason I had a hard time picking it up. Every time I glimpsed the cover, I got a slight, eerie chill that felt like black voices whispering in my ear. It was almost as if I were afraid--but of what? It was just knowledge, nothing I would normally shirk. I finally convinced myself to stop being ridiculous and get started.

The contents of the _T'torlan_ are difficult to describe. There's a preface that runs like a narrative, telling the story of a long-ago war on a long-ago world, and about six heroes "blessed by Bahamut" to end the conflict. Basic fairy-tale stuff. After that, it breaks down into a not-too-coherent catalogue of swirling script and bizarre inkblot illustrations. Some pages are no more than lists, and others are filled with pictographs so intricately arranged that it baffles the sight--more than once I had to take off my glasses and scrub my eyes to clear out the spots.

What was truly disconcerting about the tome, however, was the very thing that intrigued Magus: its 'translation.' The handwriting was sloppy and juvenile, yet remarkably erudite. There were footnotes, parenthetical asides and complementary sketches. The tone of the entire work was educated yet informal, not like other written works of the medieval period--I even encountered the phrase, "bump on a log," which my mother liked to use all the time.

One page jumped out at me: an elaborate rendering of an alien creature, its quill-like projections filling the corners and framing the 'eye' like a toothy mane. The smooth, graceful lines and symmetry would have made it a gorgeous drawing if I didn't recognize the subject in a heart-stopping blink. All I could do was stare, transfixed by the heinous visage. Then the fact of what I was looking at struck me--Magus owned this book. Magus _used_ this book. Magus used this book to write spells, to invoke spirits, and to summon...

"Lavos..." I breathed, gingerly fingering the edge of the paper as if the ink were caustic. When I finally got the nerve to flip the page, I saw that the translator had a field day with that one, etching across the entire sheet in bastardized calligraphy:

_SpaWn of DarKnEss  
__DEvourEr of StaRs  
__DraGonKin OmEga_

And then at the bottom, in tiny script: _(Replicate of __Jorumgand__. Can harvest life to reproduce? Parasitic breeding not intended in original design.)_

_Lavos_--a replicate? Designed intentionally? I sat still and pondered that for a long time, reeling under the possibilities. We all knew that Lavos came from outside our world, but there was never any speculation over where or how the monster originated. The answer seemed as unapproachable as the origin of life itself. However, if there was a sentience behind its design, what could that mean? What kind of entity would create such a thing, and to what purpose?

And how would the translator know about it...?

Thankfully the others were too enthralled with their game to catch me spacing out--or they thought that was normal. I'm not sure which made me feel better. I had to move on before I lost my mind, though, and the next pages were a little more forgiving.

That started to bother me more, however--that I could nearly tell what was on the page before even checking the notes. Occasionally a character would cross my mind with a murmur of familiarity, just like the glyphs on the gate rings. _Fire, water, light_... I could decipher fragments of runes that were not supported by anything. It was like the words just popped into my head. Was that part of the book's magic? What kind of sorcery penned this thing?

Another page of the translation was surrounded by squiggly pencil lines, as well as another mark that made me pause. See, whenever I'm writing, my pencil tends to get sidetracked alongside my mind, and doodles happen. Back in grade school I used to turn in homework that was accidentally riddled with little stars, parallel lines and pyramids--I'm partial to pyramids. A teacher once complained in a letter to my parents, writing that, 'She does well on individual assignments, but always seems lost in her own little world.' I was a distracted child, I guess.

But there's one other thing I'm prone to draw when my pen slips, and I never really gave it much thought. It's a funny little S-shape with feet and wings, something like the dragon figure on the royal Guardian coat-of-arms. I had figured that was where I picked it up, but then there it was, right in this book.

Suddenly I remembered a moment from my earliest childhood, with my ears burning at the top of the stairs while my parents talked behind my back.

_'Taban, she's into that strange book again.'  
__'Ain't no harm, is it? She's just drawing.'  
__'I know, but I don't like it one bit. We don't even know what it says. Those symbols look frightening, like the devil's handwriting. You should have thrown that awful thing away ages ago.'  
__'Aww, don't fret so much. It's just a picture book. Let her play.'_

_That_ was what was terribly familiar about the whole thing--I _had _seen the book before. And... drawn all over it. Great, my dad let me play with an evil sorceror's study guide. It's amazing I turned out a halfway-adjusted human being. Even if the translation wasn't mine (really, honestly, it couldn't be) those doodles were, of that I was certain.

I couldn't have had anything to do with the rest, I determined, which was unfortunate only because I couldn't dredge up the answers Magus was looking for. How the book got into my house in the first place would probably remain a mystery forever, along with the translator's identity. Unless... the same sorcery that was unlocking the words in my head had the same effect on a well-read, highly impressionable and incredibly bored four-year-old...?

"Heh." I shook my head. Preposterous. Maybe all that _synchronized telepathy_ Mishu was talking about was making me believe crazy things.

I skipped ahead, until another of the page headers caught my eye: 'Hexes and Curses.' And following was an index of such things, like a laundry list for magical pranksters and evildoers. I flashed back to a suspiciously bloody purple rag found days ago, and wondered if I was on to something. I then combed through every article in that section for something that resembled what was happening to Crono and me, to no avail.

Before I could ask myself if I was looking in the wrong section, after all, the bullet for 'Transformation Curses' piqued my interest. Now, whom in my immediate acquaintance might that possibly concern? I got a sneaky, delicious idea and read on.

_A beast curse* can be rendered permanent if it is grounded in the soul's heart, which can be left vulnerable after a traumatic event, in near-death or during a shock to the entire system (i.e: a lightning spell.) In that case, the curse cannot be fully dispelled without the death of the caster._

I frowned at the dumb book, pouting. Wasn't there a _non-killing_ option? Must it all end in violence?

Once upon a time, on our journey to defeat Lavos (we were scaling the Black Omen, if I recall correctly), Frog's patience with Magus snapped, and the shouting match that ensued was so fierce that none of us dared get close, much less intervene. Even Marle, who was our group's referee-cum-cheerleader, stood back with wide, frightful eyes and remained silent. I can't remember how it started (with Magus being a true bitch, I'm sure) or how it played out, except for the way it ended.

Magus loomed over Frog--practically leaning into the glowing-hot tip of the Masamune--and uttered in a voice that was lethally quiet and booming at once, _'Do it, then. Finish me off, if you think it'll make your life any less miserable. You'll always be a wretched toad, even if you break that curse.'_

None of us could believe what we were watching, and I think everyone broke world records for breath-holding and staring contests, respectively. If I were in Frog's shoes back then... I can't really imagine what I would've done. If my mercy were put to that test, I probably would have failed. Nonetheless, it was Frog's sense of honor that prevailed, and he pulled back, spitting at Magus's feet.

_'No,'_ he had said with a break of his accent that was all the more venomous. _'I'm not like thee.'_ Then he walked away.

That made the second time Frog refrained from taking his due revenge. I might have imagined it, but it seemed Magus showed a little more respect to him from then on out. Still, Frog's curse was never broken. Life's never fair, is it?

_Alternate measures not recommended. Mixed potions can destabilize in non-human digestive tracts, and have unpredictable results. A sheikh's Eye of Truth can only reform visual perception to the onlooker, just as a possessed mirror can only reform on the surface of the glass. Combining these trinkets is duly dangerous and can lead the subject to be lost in a mirror world._

So far, this book was doing an excellent job of teaching me how _not_ to help Frog. What's more, my not-too-surreptitious glances caught his attention, and he looked back with a disturbed crease to his brow. "I am put out of ease by the way thou stares. Dost thou plot something against my person?"

I grinned, feigning innocence, and held the book closely out of view. "Plotting? Me? Never."

He gave a low, incredulous croak, squinting at me, and then turned back to the movie. Sorry, Frog. If it weren't so damn objectionable, I would've gone ahead and killed Magus, myself. But it's never that easy. And I wasn't suicidal. And maybe--just maybe--we really needed his help, and I didn't want anyone to die, even if it meant sparing that jerk.

_Reformation of the soul is possible, if difficult without a spirit guide._

There was a footnote.  
_* Not to be confused with the beast talent._

What was that supposed to mean?

Jerad came in later that night, looking weary yet relieved. He immediately checked his computer at our behest, but found no messages.

"Okay, I can't get in touch with Ramezia," he announced with a resigned sigh. "I don't really have much control over when she mails me." He snapped his fingers with a fresh idea. "But what I can do is take you to the place we usually meet her contact. How does that sound?"

Our group nodded, and Marle spoke up. "Really? That would be great. When can you take us?"

"First thing tomorrow sound good?"

It did, and on that note we all turned in for the night. I tucked the _T'torlan_ away in my travel pack and tried to forget about it long enough to invite sleep. Luckily I underestimated my exhaustion, and I was out before I could think to turn out the lamp.

I dreamed of... a black wind... flowing like a creek, babbling over the cobblestones at the End of Time. There was a snake swimming on the surface, circling my feet. It had lurid red eyes, and spoke to me.

_'When are you going to give up this ruse and admit it?'_

_Admit... what?_

_'That you're a monster.'_

_What? No, no... I'm not a monster. We're all human._

_'Humans don't bleed Darkness. Look.'_

_Look...?_

I woke up. It was dark, with only the orange pallor of streetlights sifting through the kitchen window. Ayla was snoring at my feet, my toes stuck in her hair again. I tried to sit up, never minding the crick in my neck and a sharp stinging in my leg. Damn snake bite. I would pay real money to find out what that was and how to get rid of it.

_'It is called the blight.'_

Almost as much as I would pay to get rid of those voices. I couldn't believe how inured to the buggers I had become in three short years--particularly in the past three days. 'The blight...?' I echoed, testing the word in my head. This night he ('he'? Good grief, I really was starting to personify this madness) sounded like the old voice, yet had the refined, informative tone of the new one. Exactly how many of these black voice things were there? It was like counting sheep in my head, only to usher on insanity instead of sleep.

_'Just the two of us, if you must know,'_ it answered me unbidden. _'But go on, ask the neiphiti woman about the blight. I'm sure she'd be delighted to share her story with you. Mweh, heheh...'_

Yep, that was the old voice. And as if my night didn't have enough ghost stories, I heard the second voice speak up, berating the first. _'Are you tormenting her again?'  
__'And doing a smashing job of it, if I do say so myself. Isn't it fun?'  
__'Hrm. Just try not to have too much of it.'  
__'Why, isn't that the point? The tormenting?'  
__'That's your point. Our point is to nurture the seed.'  
__'Psh, same difference.'  
__'Not always. Just remember that Darkness thrives best in solitude, so leave her alone once in a while.'  
__'Gah, fine.'_

Seed? Darkness? _Her?_ They were not talking about me, right...? Just like the night before, they were talking as if I weren't even there.

_'What's with you, anyway?'  
__'With me?'  
__'Asking me to be all nice, like you sympathize with her.'  
__'Don't be ridiculous. I just wish you would be discreet when speaking to her.'  
__'Psh. What harm is it? It's not like she can touch us. She doesn't even think we're real.'  
__'And it would be nice if we could maintain that delusion as long as we can. We must be as careful as we are patient if this plan is to work.'  
__'Bah. Why is it taking so long, anyway?'  
__'It can't be helped. There's not enough Darkness in her heart. Lavos is doing most of the work. She IS one of the keys, after all.'  
__'Yeah I know, her and those other two brats. ...You know, if we had three seeds, and you didn't throw one AWAY, we wouldn't have to worry about this.'  
__'Come now, we didn't throw it away. You know very well it went to good use. Quit trying to blame me for our short fortune. We make do with what we've got.'  
__'Tch. Still, damnit, if we were done already, we could go on back to Master. It's almost time here, you know.'  
__'I know, but we have to stay with her until the job is finished. Don't worry, we won't miss the fun.'  
__'Sure, we'll just have to wait another damn thousand years for it! Unless we could persuade her to stay here...'  
__'Hmm... I'm not... That's actually not such a bad idea...'  
__'I am capable of good ones, you know. Oh, and just think! It'll break the link, too. He goes back, she stays here...'  
__'I see... That would work better than we could imagine.'_

Good grief, how do I turn them off?? If this was what going crazy was like, I wasn't going to enjoy it. I stood up, seeking respite. I could try the roof again.

_'On second thought, a thousand years is quite a leap. Such a prolonged absence might grieve Master. What if he calls for us in the interim?'  
__'Bah. We can tell him we were... out fishing?'  
__'How ingenious. I'll have to say no.'  
__'Spoil'sport.'_

Okay, definitely going to get some fresh air. I fumbled around the coffee table, looking for my glasses, and then my boots.

_'Oh look, you dolt. I think she can hear us.'  
__'No--what, really? She's never heard us before.'  
__'Just shush.'_

As soon as the door clicked softly shut behind me, there was blissful silence. Then I heard a far-away dog bark, the report of gunshot, a pitiful yelp, and then silence again. Geez, how did Jerad put up with this neighborhood? I shook off the violent ambiance and headed up the stairs.

Only partially to my surprise, I found somebody already up there. Emboldened with restlessness and wasting no time with formalities, I strolled across the roof and took a seat on the rail next to her. "Hey, Mishu."

She didn't budge any farther than to follow me with a nonchalant smirk. "Hey. Don't you ever sleep, kid?"

"Tch, I wish. Haven't had much luck with that, lately." I pinned her with a retaliatory leer. "Don't _you_ ever sleep?"

"Hah, I'm dragonkin. I can go without sleep for a week," she boasted with a flick of her spaded tail.

"Aren't you lucky," I grumbled. I threw my legs over the side and listlessly treaded open air. There was a cat fishing through the dumpster on the ground, three stories below--I wondered if that had to do with the stench of rotten seafood wafting out of the alley.

"Huh," Mishu snorted, merely amused. "What's eating you?"

_Impending insanity._ "Nothing, really... This is gonna be a weird question, but have you ever heard of something called 'the blight'?"

I could have reached over and punched her in the gut and received a less shocked reaction. Suspicion and trepidation washed over her countenance in conflicting waves, and then she lowered her brow and asked darkly, "Where did you hear that?"

"Um..." From the creepy voices in my head? Yeah, this was a great idea. "Nowhere? I mean, I read it in a book. I was just reminded of it, is all."

"What book?" she pointedly inquired, a thread of outrage putting me on edge.

"A book... about monsters?" I tried, weakly. Mishu continued to glare until I wilted under the pressure. "Sorry, I guess it was a weird and dumb question." How was she going to know some nonsense I heard in my head? I really was losing my damn mind.

"Was it the _T'torlan_?" she asked at length, somewhat mitigated. I nodded at the cat, fibbing like hell.

Mishu relaxed with a seething sigh, leaning on her arms as she joined me over the wonderful view of strewn garbage. "...It's called _tek t'karie_ in the old dragon language. It's supposed to mean 'dark scars.' But some just call it the blight."

I perked up, cautious if still curious. "You know it?"

"Yeah, you could say that," she replied somberly, not meeting my gaze.

"What is it, exactly?"

"It's a mark of the Darkness. It shows you're infected with it."

"Darkness?" I blanched. The black voices mentioned Darkness, too. "So what is that, like a disease?"

"Not exactly. It's more like a poison."

"Where does it come from?"

"Nobody's sure. All the religious nutjobs back home say it's a sign of _Ragnarok_, the end of the world."

'Religious' is one of those key words that automatically turns me off. In case you couldn't tell, Science and God have rarely been on good speaking terms, and I'm only a religious person when taking a few choice names in vain. I adjusted my glasses, trying not to look too prying as I asked, "Well, what does it do? What happens to people who have this blight?"

She scoffed, as if I had just made a bad joke. "If it doesn't outright kill you?" Mishu then hesitated, slipping into a tone so grave it was almost frightening. "...It destroys you. Eats away your soul until you're nothing but a mindless, bloodthirsty shell. You won't be able to wish for death--you won't wish for anything. You just become a monster. We call them fiends. And fiends... Well, fiends don't stop until they're either dead or everyone around them is."

_'...a monster._' My thoughts crashed into a wall, losing me for a minute.

"Why do you ask?" Mishu asked, flippancy coloring her words again.

I shook my head, resisting the impulse to scratch my leg. "No reason, just... It sounds awful, is all. Isn't there a cure for it?"

"No. Not yet, anyway." The grin she flashed was distant and tinged with... regret? "To be honest... It's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Darkness drove me away from home. Now I'm stuck wandering around, looking for something nobody believes exists."

"Like what?" I was most keen about learning her motive for following us, not to mention hanging around this planet, so I made sure to pay attention.

I waited, and waited, and... watched her turn away with a dismissive huff. "Hrmph. It doesn't matter." She looked back at me and chuckled faintly. "I don't know why I'm telling you anything. You're a weird girl, you know that?"

I rolled my eyes. "I get that a lot."

Sensing an opening, Mishu pursued her own inquisition. "So what's the story with you people?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean traveling like this. Not many people jump around through time portals like it's no big deal. You all act like you've done this kind of shit before."

"Heh, we have. It's a long, long story."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Got a fuckin' short version?"

I thought about it, turning over the beginning in my head--all twenty of them--opening my mouth to start once or twice and then falling short. Sometimes, when you consider your audience, some things really aren't worth explaining. "No," I said, shaking my head and laughing. "No, I really don't."

"Huh." Mishu let it go, a grin still fringing her expression as we looked out over the city for a spell. I was about to make some trite comment over how it all looked--well, majestic, with the neon lights and sculpted towers coming together in the middle of the dome like an ornate ship in a bottle--when she asked completely out of the blue (or black, since it was night), "Say, your friend, what's his fuckin' deal? I don't think I've heard a whole damn sentence out of his mouth since I met 'im. He mute or retarded or what?"

I snickered so hard it was more like a sneeze, and I had to throw my head back to laugh. "Ahaha, Crono?? Noooo, he's just..." I fixed my glasses and nodded sagaciously. "It's just his way."

Her smile turned sly. "You always blush like that when talking about him?"

"I--no!" I squeaked, making a poor case for myself. "Hey, what are you saying??"

"Nothing, nothing..." Mishu quibbled.

I shoved her side emphatically. "Please, like you can tell anyway! It's the middle of the night." Modesty is not one of my faults (unfortunately?), but I do blush a little too easily for my tastes--usually over stupid, petty things. But Crono? No way, he's my friend. It's just been a little... weird lately.

"Heheheh. I'm just fuckin' with you. You kids are a riot."

"Glad we can be of amusement to you," I said sarcastically.

Mishu stood and stretched her limbs--all seven of them, wings quivering with a yawn. "Hell, at least one of you is. Beats talkin' to that pointy-eared faglock."

"Heh. Is Magus around?"

"Who fuckin' cares? I did see him a couple of hours ago, though. He's just drifting around."

"I guess that's his way, too." I was relieved that he hadn't gone rogue and left the city. It was easier to keep him in check when he stuck with the group.

"Anyway, whatever. I'm off," she abruptly declared.

"You're leaving? Where to?"

Mishu shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh!" I had almost neglected to mention, "We're leaving in the morning, by the way. Jerad's taking us to this meeting place for Ramezia's contact."

"No shit?" She gave a vaguely interested twitch. "That's progress, I guess."

"Yeah. You're coming with us, right?" When did I go from not liking or trusting Mishu to suddenly wanting to keep her around? She must have had some strange alien charisma. What if it was a telepathic trick? Note to self: go back to not trusting Mishu.

Amendment to note to self: paranoia is not conductive to sanity.

...Too many notes to self probably aren't, either.

Next thing I knew, Mishu was crouched on the ledge, her clawed fingers and toes scratching the cement as she panned an appraising look over the patchwork skyline. She passed me one last glance, long and messy locks veiling the meaning in her eyes, and said sedately, "The Phoenix."

"Huh?"

"I'm looking for the Phoenix." Then she spread her wings and took off.

* * *

A/N: That's the end of this part. Coming up: A new friend, a strange enemy, the unknown abyss and a dangerous secret--not necessarily in that order. (Also, spiders. Eeee.)


	16. Parting Gift

**16. Parting Gift**

Apparently Crono had a hell of a time trying to wake me up that morning without talking or touching me--or I imagine he did, because by the time he yanked the throw pillow out from under my head and started flogging me with it, I was so engrossed in a dream that I woke up mumbling, "Mnh, can't do that... Pythagorean won't work... has to be right angle."

Once all the foggy geometry cleared out of my mind, I found Crono standing over me with an amused smirk, piecing together two 'loser' signs with his thumbs and forefingers. _Even your dreams are square._

"Aw shuddup," I grumbled, and then rolled off the couch and joined the others for breakfast: toast and processed cheese. We puzzled over the ingredients label for a while, wondering exactly how one can claim it's "made with real cheese" if the whole block only contains one percent. Judging by the consistency and melting point of the stuff, it was more like a yellow brick imitating cheese.

Mishu showed up at the door right before we were ready to leave, and Magus finally graced us with his presence outside, where he was leaning petulantly against the graffiti-covered wall as if he had been waiting for us all along. Marle tried to small talk her way into finding out what he'd been doing the past two nights, yet when a minute of stony silence wasn't sufficient feedback, Magus issued a pithy, "Shut up, Princess." Marle then stuck her tongue out, called him a 'meanie' and gave up. Some things were never going to change.

We rode out of town the same way we rode in, crammed into the back of Jerad's ragged old truck. Without all the tool boxes in the way, it was even more of a bed of rust laced with paint chips, and there was nothing to sit and hold on to save our own behinds. It was impossible to get comfortable and not slide all over the place, especially when Jerad hit every turn at no less than twenty miles-per-hour, but ultimately I couldn't care less, because we were finally back on our way to meet Ramezia.

I still had no idea how that encounter was going to play out--not that we didn't have enough questions for her. _Why did she build the gates? Why won't she show her face to Jerad and his research team--or give them their due payment, for that matter? Why did she ally with Heckran's gang of Mystic thugs? What did she want with the Rainbow Shell, the Sun Stone and the Dreamstone from Ayla's village? Why did she murder...?_

...I decided to take a page from Crono and Marle's books and not worry over what I couldn't possibly foresee. We would just have to figure it out when the time came.

Out of all the commotion of moving, Marle unsteadily crawled towards the cabin and asked the driver, "So what does Ramezia's 'contact' look like?"

Jerad slowed down a few notches to consider it. "Uh... Tall. Pale. Wears a black cloak with a hood that hides his face. Can't really tell you much else. He's always real stiff and proper. Talks like a butler or something."

Later on, the hands-free radio built into the dashboard crackled with Ryan's voice. "Hey man! You on the road?"

"Yeah, I'm dropping everyone off at the contact point."

"Cool. I'll be at the lab later. Oh! Dude, you heard what happened to Xabie last night?"

"That AI company? Don't they build security robots?"

"Heh, not anymore! I heard on the AIQ that their main factory got burned down by a vampire."

"A vampire," Jerad deadpanned.

"W-What?" Ryan hiccupped with laughter, aware of how absurd his report sounded. "Seriously though, the place is toast. There's like, witnesses saying it had just been robbed by some tall, pale guy wearing a cape."

I looked straight at Magus, but then held my tongue. You know what? I wasn't going to ask. I'm sure it was just a terrible misunderstanding that could only be resolved by setting someone on fire. However, I did want to talk to him about something else. I shuffled along the bouncy bed until I was close enough to tug on his cloak, and this got his irascible attention. "I looked through that book."

Magus looked torn between wanting to hear more and wanting to pitch me over the back the truck. "...And?"

"You said you've used it before, before it was translated. Mind if I ask how you could read it? The script in that thing is almost completely indecipherable."

"And yet you could translate it," he countered.

I sputtered. "Bu--Yo--You don't know that was me!"

"Am I wrong?"

I wasn't going to take credit for that. It was _creepy_. "Listen, I was _four years old,_" I retorted, not exactly denying things, either. "All I liked to read back then were pirate stories, dime books and the comics in the paper. Well, and the Buntzen Manuscript. But that doesn't count; it had pictures of mermaids all over it." Blathering wasn't helping my case, I realized, so I shut up. Mishu suddenly had an interested eye on our conversation, and Frog was pretending to look ahead, but I knew his peripheral vision better.

"So you do remember the book."

I sighed, giving in. "Yes, okay, I've seen the thing before. Doesn't mean I understand anything about it, and I couldn't tell you who wrote that translation. For all I know, it could've been _you_," I fired back.

"Tch. I would never make anything so sloppy and pointless. That's your chicken-scratch. And I could already read it because it's like the scripts I was forced to study as a child."

"Bull crap," I called him out. "That's not Zealian script. I know what that looks like, and it's a lot easier to decode."

"I didn't say it was Zealian. I said it was similar. And I think I would know better than _you_."

"Similar? What do you mean, like, structurally?" The writing did seem familiar, in that regard--but as Magus just said, I was no archaic cryptographer. I liked books, but I wasn't born in Zeal, and I didn't grow up in a haunted dungeon studying how to turn people into frogs or make their heads explode with my mind. That was one field I had to yield to him. "Would that mean both languages have the same roots, or that one is derived from the other?"

He shrugged and looked out over the passing scenery, appearing to lose interest. "Who knows."

"Huh..." With that line of talk exhausted, I scooted away, giving him back his precious space. I wanted to look more into that book--there were still so many pages left to uncover--but I didn't want to risk losing any precious material on the road, as bumpy as it was. Once we passed through the toll booth on the southern edge of the dome, the barrage of rain made reading impossible, anyway. We waved farewell to Traven and got smacked in the face with a wall of water in return.

"Oh my gosh, can you believe this??" Marle yelled over the din. The waterlogged plain that stretched out before us was incredible. If the road weren't paved and elevated, the truck would have been washed away--and even as we drove along, a tide of fresh water lapped at every dip and sinkhole. The rain wasn't stopping. The heavens and earth were beginning to blend into mist, making the distant mountains look like waterfalls. Ahead of us were even darker clouds and a hazy grey line that could have been a wave-tossed coast, on a fair day.

"Aye, this rain, 'tis extraordinary," Frog remarked. "If it is not curbed, it could turn calamitous."

I held my bag as well and dry as I could and hoped that our present dilemmas weren't related to any imminent flood. We had pulled off some crazy feats across history, and saved a lot of civilizations from destruction, but none of us knew how to cure the weather. We wouldn't know where to start.

We didn't see many passing vehicles on our way, and even less once the highway diverged onto a narrow country road. At some spots we were treading an inch or more of water, and Jerad wasn't entirely sure we were going to make it, but surprisingly the truck held up. Finally we rolled to a stop in a puddle-strewn gravel lot, completely vacant save some faded signposts and brick markers. A complex of lifeless buildings lay ahead, enclosed by a chain-link fence that had whole patches sheered away an unperceivable while ago--along with a sign thrown to the ground that read, "Private Property." Unlabeled silos, busted light poles and unmanned towers sprawled into the immediate distance. The seagulls wheeling overhead signified that we were close to a shore.

As we crawled out of the truck, stretching our legs and wondering at our surroundings, Marle asked first, "What is this place...?"

Jerad stepped out to join us, explaining, "It used to be a chemical plant. Now it's nothing. The plant shut down a little while after I was born."

"Looks like a bunch of ruins," Magus blandly noted. Marle shivered, hugging herself through her parka. "It's kinda creepy..."

"And you meet Ramezia's contact _here_?" I asked scrupulously.

"Yeah... I know it looks pretty shady, but Ramezia has never asked my team to do anything against the law. She just insists on being anonymous. All we do is carry supplies and instructions she gives us here up to Death Peak."

I shrugged. "I guess we'll have to look around and see what we can find."

Marle glanced back and asked lightly, "Are you coming with us, Jerad?"

"Ah, well..." He scratched his head and looked apologetically at the ground. "To be honest, I shouldn't be caught snooping around here, and I've got a lot of work to catch up on back in town..."

"It's okay," I said, waving off his excuses. "You've done a lot for us, already. We shouldn't ask you to wait up for us."

Frog bowed shortly. "We hath appreciated thy accommodation."

"I hate to just leave you guys like this, though..." Jerad trailed off reluctantly.

"We'll be okay!" Marle asserted. "We're experienced adventurers, right?" Ayla whooped in accord, kicking a puddle hard enough to upset a flock of blackbirds. Crono stepped forward to shake his hand, and with that settled Jerad backed towards his truck.

"Okay, then! Uh... Good luck! If you're ever back in Traven, you know where to find me, I guess. Um... Ow!" He reeled from knocking his head against the roof of the truck. "Damnit..."

Huh, so this was it. I had a hunch I was never going to see him again. It didn't feel like a proper farewell, so I had to say something--or do something. It was probably going to be lame and dumb, but... "Hey Jerad, wait a sec!"

He paused with one foot in his truck, rubbing the knot on his head. "Uh?" he eloquently replied.

I started talking as I dug through my travel pack. "Listen, Jerad, thanks for everything. You were a big help; you have no idea. I wish there was a way we could repay you, but there's a good chance we won't cross paths again, so..." I found it, and then, before I gave it too much thought, I handed him the Gate Key. "Here, you can have this."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Crono and the others outwardly shock. I couldn't see Magus behind me, but I was sure I was receiving a glare worthy of certain doom. Screw him and his no-good deal; at the end of the day it was _my_ invention, and I could give it away as a gift if I pleased. It was the only token of gratitude I had that was remotely worth a damn, anyway.

The long look of surprise on Jerad's face was priceless, and he began to fumble the key back to me. "Wha--you--oh no, I can't, I couldn't--"

I grabbed the key and shoved it insistently, forcing him to catch it. "Take it, okay? It's my way of saying thanks. Just take good care of it, okay?"

"Oh, I..." He held the key tightly--possessively, even--as his humble panic eased into a clumsy, elated grin. "Thank you, thanks so much! I will!"

Satisfied with that exchange, I headed back towards the others. Magus was, indeed, damning me with his eyes; Frog treated me with one of his open, neutral expressions; and Crono tossed a bemused look from me to Jerad and back, indicating the key. _Aren't we going to need that?_

"It's okay, we don't need it anymore," I assured everyone. "Mishu knows how to open the gates without it, right? How else could she have followed us? Besides, I can build another one later."

Magus's censuring look darted from me to Mishu before he harrumphed and walked away, flapping his cape in one of his little brooding wizard tantrums.

"W-Wait, Lucca!" We all turned back as Jerad ran out of his truck, tripping over a second thought. He stopped in front of me and ran a hand through his wet hair, looking nervous. Then he drew a quick, resolute breath and said, "It's you, isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"Doctor LEA. I saw some of those notes you were writing and--n-not that I was snooping around or anything, I just couldn't help but notice, er..."

I folded my arms and smirked, looking away. "Figured me out, huh?"

Jerad hit the figurative roof. "Oh my God, so it's true! You're--" He caught himself mid-revelation. "Oh my God, Dr. LEA is a woman. Er, a girl--er, I mean...!"

Marle was giggling at that point, which only fueled the fire to Jerad's ripe-red cheeks. He clutched his head and staggered. "Oh boy, I'm gonna faint."

I held out my hand, formally--and hoped he took it before the poor fool actually keeled over. "Lucca Elaine Ashtear, if you must know." He hesitantly shook my hand, and I added with a smug grin, "Although really, I prefer 'Lucca the Great.' Kindly correct the University of Porre's archives, if you could."

"Ashtear... Ahaha, yeah, I'll remember. I promise."

At that, we waved goodbye and finally parted ways. Jerad's shin struck the frame of the door as he climbed into the truck. I rolled my eyes at his awkward cursing and rejoined the group.

"That lad is... not graceful," was Frog's only comment.

Marle had a considerable deal more to say once Jerad's truck drove away. "Awww, that was so cute!"

"What?" I responded testily. I knew what was coming.

She nudged my elbow, ribbing, "You two!"

"No it wasn't!"

"Yes it was! You should've asked him out." Count on Marle to come up with the most absurd suggestions.

"I..." _Don't blush don't blush don't--damnit._ "We don't have time for stuff like that!"

"You're turning red! Hee hee, Lucca has an admire-er..." she started to sing, and Crono couldn't resist laughing.

I hate Marle. "Shut up...!" I wailed maturely.

Magus, who had already marched up to the dilapidated front gate, cleared his throat excessively loudly. "_Children_."

"Isn't that insult getting old?" I snapped back at him as we caught up, and then proceeded into the abandoned chemical plant.

Upon entering the nearest building, a faint, yet familiar odor greeted us: a cocktail of mildew, formaldehyde, methane, freon, dead animals and other lovely products of the nitrogen cycle. The halls were gutted, lined with steel plate and floored with cracked clay tiles. The ceiling was composed of some kind of synthetic foam that was rotting and falling to pieces as rainwater dribbled in. None of the lights worked; the computer console in the foyer was dead, the screen shattered and the keyboard dismantled. If not for the occasional skylight, there would be no way to see into the narrow, branching corridors.

It was only a slight dose of the decay we encountered in the ruined domes of the future, yet enough to set the mood. Ayla stood back from a lime-encrusted drinking fountain, wrinkling her nose in wary distaste. "No like this place. Bad smells confusing."

A graffiti artist had decided to creepily scrawl, 'WE SEE YOU' on one wall, and sign it with a skull and crossbones. I glanced into a high corner and spied a security camera, its lens blotted with a wad of what looked like chewing gum. "Seems like nobody but vandals has been here for years," I observed.

Frog croaked once and the sound echoed down the halls for a chilling length, punctuating the empty, haunted feel of the place.

"It won't hurt to look, anyway," Marle determined, and we kept exploring. It felt like we had walked half a mile in the semi-dark before we discovered a factory house of sorts, with crates stacked against the wall, a mechanical crane suspended from the rafters and a couple of motionless conveyor belts set over trenches on each side.

Marle leaned across one such conveyor belt, her gaze following its path into a deep, black tunnel. "Neat. I wonder where this goes?"

"Probably outside," I conjectured. "This looks like where everything gets boxed and shipped out."

Mishu peered at the rust-perforated tin roof, wincing as a raindrop struck her brow. "Tch, a dead end... We're not gonna find shit at this rate."

Ayla stopped and whirled to the door, unseen hackles bristling. "Listen!"

We hushed, all ears turned towards the outside hall, and heard a strange voice and a pair of footsteps drifting closer. "...ere are you?"

Marle gasped. "Someone's coming!" Everyone passed around variations of the same stricken, muted question, wondering what the hell to do--Frog's sword was out in a flash, while Magus and Mishu looked as if they couldn't be bothered--until Marle belted out, "Hide!"

Nobody questioned her. Mishu ducked behind the nearest crate, Ayla jumped _inside_ that crate, and Magus vanished with a flourish of his cloak--I didn't even know he knew an invisibility spell, but it didn't surprise me. Crono dove through the crevice between the conveyor belt and the edge of the floor, hiding in the trench below, and Marle followed. I crawled in after them, and Frog--after scrambling for a few more seconds--decided that was the best place to hide, too. He laboriously squeezed through the narrow opening, a squeaky croak emitting from his puffed cheeks as Marle and I pitched in and grabbed his arms, hauling him the rest of the way through. We heard his cape snag and tear on one of the belt's gears, and Marle offered a regretful grimace.

Let me just say that for all of our achievements--saving the planet and everything--stealth has never been one of our group's finer assets. In fact, on the three occasions we had to perform prison breaks, our methods were the _exact opposite_ of stealth. When you travel around with a half-ton robot that can barely fit through doors and a woman who was born before doors were properly invented, you learn to get by without the element of surprise.

All that said--this time, it wasn't my fault, I swear.

So there we squatted beneath a grimy, broken-down factory belt, looking out for the mysterious figure that shortly entered the room. Marle drew a taut breath at the sight of him: a small-statured anthropoid with the head and feet of a bird. His hooked beak was streaked with black pigment, and ink-tipped, feathery blades fanned from his elbows, making spurious wings. He wore a bandana on his head, a bow and quiver across his back, and a leather vest over his tawny plumage.

He was an akio, a Mystic. The diablos we captured mentioned one of his ilk, and Marle confirmed our suspicions, turning to us and mouthing, _'That's him!'_

The akio stood at the door, sweeping the room with flinty eyes. He carried a haughty posture that was reinforced by a rich, even voice. "Seth, come out of hiding, now. I don't want to play games with you."

The response startled us, resounding from outside and all around the room at once. It was raspy and maniacal. "Ohhh, but what'sss the fun in that?"

The akio spun about and replied back through the door, as if the speaker were behind him the whole time. "I have a job for you."

"I don't recall having to take ordersss from _you_..." the disembodied voice sneered.

"This order is directly from Lord Heckran _and_ Ramezia, so I wouldn't recommend ignoring it."

"Is that ssso?"

"I know you have a penchant for mischief, but try to take this one seriously. This is reconnaissance."

There was a calculating pause, and then, "I'm lissss'ning..."

"We've found evidence of some humans running amok through the gates. They've killed at least six of our forces and the worm, as well as Lord Heckran's nephew. I need you to find these people and report to us their bearing and intentions, so we can send a team to intercept them."

"Huuuumansss, you sssay..."

"Yes, humans. Have you seen any?" the akio inquired in an uncompromising tone.

"Perhapsss..."

We were so focused on their conversation and not being noticed that nobody dared to move. That's why when something with eight spindly legs dropped in front of my face, it spooked the daylights out of me.

I. Hate. Spiders. I believe I've mentioned this before. It never stopped being true. I don't _care_ if they're harmless or beneficial to the ecosystem or whatever--they're creepy, crawly, nasty, bitey... that's not a word, but you get the point. They terrify me on a primal level that's not to be reckoned with. And this wasn't just a spider--_it was the biggest damn spider I'd ever seen in my life_, black and slick and wretched, dangling by a thread so close it could tickle my nose.

After a cataplectic second I stiffened, eyes widened in horror as my every hair stood on end. The keening scream that squirmed up my throat was only stifled at the last second by the hand that clamped over my mouth, accompanied by another arm that hitched around my middle and dragged me backwards a few precious inches.

It took another dazed second to recognize my savior was Crono, who won points for catching me before I blew everyone's cover, but then took a penalty for pulling me into his lap--the _last_ thing either of us needed to do in close quarters. Sapid fire roiled every humor in my gut as the brush of his fingertips burned through my shirt. It was just as wonderfully awful as that first time--worse, even, because my back was pressed up to his chest, close enough for me to notice that he still smelled like dragons and tonic, even while his touch was excruciatingly warm. I wasn't sure if I was about to throw up or cry or scream again, but the murmur I made from the bottom of my gullet was definitely addled and pleading. I felt Crono tense up with a critical hiss, succumbing to the backlash of his thoughtless 'rescue,' yet there wasn't a damn thing either of us could do but grit our teeth and ride it out, hoping no one else would notice.

"At any rate, Gritchen supplied us with some security robots. They'll be stationed here with you."

To make matters worse, _the spider was still there_, sliding down a thread poised right over my knee. There wasn't any more room to maneuver, much less pick up my foot and stamp the thing out of existence, so I was stuck staring haplessly at the little monster as it invaded my personal space. I was going to kill this thing. And Crono. And then pass out--I just wasn't sure which was about to happen, first.

"You know machiness are ussseless to me..."

Our peril was not overlooked, although thankfully Frog's scouring eyes pinpointed the spider before he got a better idea. Still, he couldn't quite reach us without his armor making a racket, so he picked up the unsheathed Masamune, and then--with deft, silent precision that would have been laudable if the circumstances weren't ludicrous--stuck the spider to the nearest wall. It died in writhing, impaled agony, the little bastard.

"Exactly why I'm leaving them with you."

"Very funny..."

If I had any breath left I would've sighed in relief. All I had to do was put up with Crono for a few more moments--although that was becoming more of a daunting task by the second--and we were in the clear.

...Until Mune's voice projected from the sword, loud and brash, _"Hey! Wha'do we look like, a damn fly swatter?"_

Oh, _crap_. We collectively froze, and the akio snapped straight to us, hawkish gaze nailing us in our tracks. "Who's there? What are you doing here?" he barked.

Ayla and Marle were on top of things, springing from their hiding spots and surrounding him. The princess's sleek ebony crossbow was loaded and ready as she commanded, "Hold it right there!" Magus and Mishu reappeared in the next beat, backing them up, and Frog was on his way (with difficulty.) Crono and I were delayed a bit, but once I got my much-needed space, shook off the ineffable sensations and caught my breath, I scurried onto the main floor with everyone else. We didn't waste another second getting our bearings, lest our next lead get away.

The Mystic was impressively unfazed, and made no move to flee or draw his bow. "This makes it easier," he said with unsettling confidence.

"You!" Apparently Ayla recognized him, too. "Ayla remember thief! Why take red rock from Ioka? And Rainbow Shell from castle? And Sun Stone! If want, should ask nicely!"

The akio regarded her with one blithe eye. "Ah. Cavewoman. Quite frankly, it's none of your business."

"All Ayla's business!" she blustered, bouncing in place and brandishing her fists. "You steal from Ioka, you steal from Ayla's friends, you steal from Ayla!"

I finally recalled the name that diablos dropped, and aimed my (not new, but improved!) pistol at the akio's head. "So, you must be Darwin!"

"And you must be those meddling humans," he coolly riposted. "I'm sorry to burst everyone's bubble, but your vain little crusade will have to end here."

Marle shook her head adamantly. "Oh no, not before we get some answers, first!"

Darwin's answer was to reach into the pouch at his side, and before we could catch him snapping his (one would think non-existent) fingers, the space in front of him exploded with light and smoke. We flinched at the flash and then stumbled through the ashen cloud that instantly filled the room. I made the mistake of inhaling some of the noxious stuff, and spent the next moment coughing and scrubbing the tears from my eyes.

I barely discerned Mishu shouting through the bedlam, "..ckin' smoke bomb?!"

The last we heard of Darwin was a retreating order. "Seth, deal with them!"

"Oho, is that a _carte blanc_?" the mystery voice chortled.

"He's getting away!" Marle hoarsely cried.

We barreled ahead, more-or-less in the right direction. Ayla got to the door first and took off like a blonde comet streak, in fast pursuit. By the time the rest of us ran clear of the smoke and made it to the next juncture, a barricade of lurid cyclops-eyes rose up to stare us down.

"INTRUDERS-ENCOUNTERED," intoned the wall of unblinking spotlights, and I realized we had run into a pack of robots--unfriendly, spider-legged ones. They were waist-high and flimsy looking, yet effectively intimidating in a pack of a dozen. Our group ducked and scattered like waterbugs at the ominous crackle of rifles being armed; the first spurt of laser fire grazed Magus's cloak and left a hole in the web of Mishu's wing like a cigarette burn in a tablecloth. She gave a harpy's curse and crumpled against the wall while Magus stepped into her place, a magmatic spell brewing in the palm of his hand.

My trigger was a touch faster, and I got to test my first flash pellet on the closest spider-bot. The explosive charge burned so hot and quick on impact that it looked like a bud of lightning, punching clean through the bot's cranial plate and flash-frying its primary circuit board. The machine shuddered and collapsed with a belch of sparks, sending the surrounding bots skittering backwards--one of which ate a volley from Marle's crossbow that shattered its optic sensors and sent it careening into its neighbor. Frog sheared through another pair of bots with a single swipe of the Masamune, the blade absorbing the discharge of lasers and short circuits with a supernatural splash of pink light.

The second round of laser fire was deflected by a lightning spell, an electric web that flitted overhead like a divine net. It hardly stunned the bots, yet absorbed the brunt of their attack before dissipating like torched gossamer. I was about to credit Magus for using his magic to _protect_ us rather than outclass us, for a change, but then I checked over my shoulder and found the actual caster staring after his outstretched hand with a witless, serendipitous expression. I don't think Crono had quite meant to do that; his magic was a little rustier than he would care to admit.

The rest of us barely avoided the wall of flame that rolled by next. It was so intense that it sucked the air out of the room with a great whoosh, and crushed the remaining spider-bots like a steamroller made of lava. When I peeled myself off the sticky-hot floor moments later, wiping the fresh sweat from my brow, I beheld a smoldering heap of scrap metal--an amalgamation of pots, parts and pans that looked like a funeral pyre for a kitchen.

"Holy cow!" Marle exclaimed, and it was hard to tell if she was appreciative of Magus's handiwork or just flabbergasted. I could have thanked him for insta-drying all our clothes, but I knew that was furthest from his intentions.

"Damnit, can't you warn us before pulling stunts like that?!" I flared at the wizard. "You really could kill us one of these days!"

"...Duck," Magus said remorselessly late. I wanted to kick him in the groin right then, but he was wearing a codpiece, the protected bastard.

We altogether shook the dust off our feet and made sure nobody was injured. Mishu batted away Marle's offer to examine her wing ("I'm fine, stow it.") That's when Ayla reappeared, trudging out of the adjacent hall with a defeated slump to her shoulders.

"Ayla sorry... Let bird man get away. No could smell. Too many bad smells here, confuse Ayla."

"So we lost him. Useless," Magus censured, and together Frog and I shot him another glare. Ayla didn't deserve his demeaning bullshit.

Marle ignored him and patted Ayla's shoulder consolingly. "It's okay, Ayla. You did your best."

A stray thought hit me. "Uh, so did anyone see that weird guy Darwin was talking to?"

Crono shook his head with a twinge of anxiety that was mirrored in Marle's response. "Seth, wasn't it? No, I didn't see him at all..."

"Ayla no find, either..."

"Nay, I saw no more than thee. Didst you all hear the uncanny tenor of his voice? 'Twas almost more of a spectre than a man."

"You think that creep is still lurkin' around here? Maybe we should hunt for him, too," Mishu proposed.

Marle shrugged, and Crono nodded down a passage yet to be explored. _Let's go._

We kept walking, but it was all more of the same--nothing fruitful at all, that is. We went up some stairs, crossed a catwalk, and entered an abandoned laboratory attended by two more spider-bots. They were dispatched easily, and though I was granted a minute to search the lab's compartments, nothing useful turned up--just a welding hood, a broken beaker and a corroded acetylene torch. We left through another door, took some stairs back down, crossed two more nondescript rooms and then entered an unbelievably long, dark hallway that seemed to slope down towards a sub-level.

We hardly spoke the whole way. We were trying not to draw the attention of whatever security robots were left, while listening out for Seth, Darwin or anyone else to interrogate. It was unnerving at times, trying to distinguish footfalls from rainfall and whispers from birdcalls, not to mention the way the building creaked and groaned under the relentless encroachment of nature. Periodically thunder would grumble, just to remind us it was there.

To keep my mind occupied, I thought about our mission, our targets... and 'Seth' in particular. Whoever this person was, he already had me especially freaked out, and not just because he sounded like a ventriloquist from hell. It was really because, on a base level that I couldn't quite describe, he sounded just like those damn black voices, the ones I had been hearing all the time lately. I had to keep that special observation to myself, though.

_'Don't fall behind.'_

I snapped out of my musings long enough to realize that I was trailing at the back of our party. They weren't far--the tail of Ayla's scarf was about twenty feet ahead, although it was worrisome that I could lose track of myself so far, so fast.

_'Walk faster, move it.'_

And speaking of those black devils, they were giving me advice now? Naturally, the first dense thing I do when a voice in my head tells me to move faster is to stop and turn around to see what the hell it's talking about.

Right away, I saw nothing. Then I blinked and noticed a pair of detached, bright orange slits, like jack-o-lantern eyes, gleaming from a shadowed crook in the hall. Then the nothing reached out and struck me. It was like getting overwhelmed by a tidal wave, so swift and shocking that I didn't even have a chance to cry out. Everything went icy-hot and numb, my knees gave out, and the last thing I heard was another black voice--a _third_ one--so sonorous it was as if it was talking right between my ears.

_**'Greetingsss, human.'**_

And then, for a fatal moment, I blacked out.

* * *

A/N: Props to maggiekarp for that company name.

...I think I write Magus the same way I write Amarant. Must be that acerbic personality they have in common. I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I can't help myself, either; it's too damn fun.

I'm glad to leave Traven behind, really. It was a necessary pit stop, but it felt like the story was dragging there, and it didn't help that that was where I ran out of steam in the original version. That means everything from this point and beyond is officially uncharted territory--very exciting for me, since I can now do all kinds of things with the original outline that wouldn't have occurred to me back in 2001.

I hope everyone reading has as much fun as I will with the next few chapters, although I have to warn: one of the key concepts of my Phoenix Chronicles is going to manifest soon, and it's going to make things really... weird. ...Especially if you're squicked by furries.

Aw well, it still won't hold a crazy candle to Chrono Cross, and that had furries, too.

Next time! A rapier's mind games.


	17. Rapier Games

**17. Rapier Games**

"Lucca? Is everything okay?"

When I came to, I was not lying on the floor, which I mistook for a good sign. For a moment I stared at the back of my hand, fingers splayed over the cement where I caught the ground. I was kneeling with my back to the group, and Marle's voice of concern gradually rippled to the front of my mind. I thought to stand up and answer her, but then I found the first real indication that something was amiss: I couldn't move.

Yet I could still breathe, and speak, even as my lips moved without my permission. "...Yesss," I heard my voice slide over the word, as if savoring it. "I'm fine. I just slipped."

_'What?'_ my thoughts baulked. I didn't mean to say that. _I didn't say that at all. _No, I wasn't fine, oh crap, oh _crap_. Somebody look me in the eyes and _I'll show them I'm not okay_. What was happening to me??

_**'Heheh, it'ss more fun if you relaxx,'**_ the intruding voice said.

_'Screw you!'_ I flailed, although I couldn't stop myself from standing and walking back towards the group, as if nothing were the matter at all. _'You're the one controlling me?! You bastard!'_

"Oh, okay..." Marle said thinly, perhaps not convinced--but the interest to pursue the question obviously wasn't there. She was already snooping around the dark corner ahead while Crono flicked me a _hurry up_. Ayla issued a quick, friendly warning. "Stay close; no fall behind. Ayla smell danger."

If only I got that memo two minutes ago. _'What's going on? Who are you?? What's your game?'_

_**'Game? I'm glad you asked. Gamess are my favorite. I'll be your conductor thiss evening. Sssit back, enjoy the ride, and don't worry, I'll give your body back--as sssoon as I'm finished screwing with all your friendss! Keheheheh!'**_

_'Nooooo!'_

Just to verify that this wasn't my typical black voice, I heard the other two speak up, full of cool and fiery outrage, respectively.

_'I would release her, if I were you.'  
__'You fucking stealing scab!!'_

_**'Oh? I wasn't aware this was disssputed territory.'**_

_'I'm afraid so. You just picked the wrong vessel, my friend.'  
__'You don't know who you're fucking with!!'_

_**'Oh my. Finderss keepersss,'**_ the intruder hissed, toying with a grin at the corner of my mouth.

_'You're only going to regret this.'  
__'You little son of a--'_

_**'This vessel must be awfully important, for you two to be making such a fusss. She doesn't sseem that strong, but perhapss I got the pick of the litter, after all... keh, heh heh...'**_

Oh my gawd, I was hearing voices, and they were _fighting over me_. _'I'm not anybody's damn vessel--whatever! Let me go!! Who the hell do you think you are?!'_

'_**My name is Seth. Body-ssnatching is what I do. And what'ss your name, girly?'**_

Seth was the creepy voice talking to Darwin; I should have recognized him sooner. If he was working with the Mystics, I definitely wasn't planning to cooperate. _'What? Why should I tell you?'_

_**'Just thought that we should get acquainted... Unless you'd like to be called girly.'**_

_'I don't want to be called anything! I just want you to let me go!'_

_**'But the fun'ss just beginning...'**_

That portentous note was followed by silence. The other two voices didn't speak up for me again--not that I wanted their help. Our group continued venturing down the corridor, oblivious to my plight. We descended a wide flight of stairs into what appeared to be a grid of utility tunnels. The stucco had been stripped from the walls, leaving a sloppy layer of off-white paint on brick, and dull green emergency lights flickered around rows of pipes that zigzagged across the ceiling. Between our echoing footsteps I could hear the faint buzz of electrical boxes, and absolutely nothing else--no sight or sound of life in any direction.

"Why are there still lights on down here?" Marle wondered out loud.

"T'would say this place still be in use," Frog responded.

"I believe we got that impression from the robots trying to kill us," Magus sneered, and everyone quit discussing the obvious. We took the first right turn and explored onwards. Seth kept me quiet, as well, although I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

There's a phenomenon that allegedly occurs at least once in every person's lifetime called sleep paralysis, wherein a semi-conscious sleeper is trapped in their own bed, aware but unable to move. It's caused by a glitch, you could say, in the human sleep cycle, and it's happened to me once before, on some uneventful night when I was... thirteen or fourteen? I can't even remember that detail, but this was almost like that--that helpless, vaguely conscious sensation--only I was moving and speaking completely without my accord. I felt like a mere passenger in the back seat of my own mind, only marginally connected to everything around me. I could sense my feet touching the floor as an aftershock, and hear my own breath as a phantom wind, but everything I did and said didn't belong to me. I wanted to scream, but I was only suffocating.

My gaze locked on Marle's back, directly ahead of me. _**'What's her name?'**_

_'Who?'_ I stalled.

_**'Don't play dumb--the one we're looking at. Pretty Miss Blondie, with the ponytail.'**_

_'Why should I tell you anything?'_ I reiterated.

_**'Because I'd hate to kill her before I even knew her name. It'ss not good etiquette.'**_

_'Don't you dare!!'_

I felt a twitch--my hand moving to my side and closing around the grip of my pistol. _**'Her naaaame?'**_

Damnit. _'...Marle. But you're not going to get away with whatever you're scheming! My friends aren't stupid.'_

_**'Not sstupid, you ssay?'**_ Seth rebounded, the melodious pitch in his voice accepting a challenge. _**'Oh, jusst watch...'**_

I didn't have a choice--my eyes were stuck whichever way Seth was looking. We were all still walking, moving together, searching for a light at the end of these mystery tunnels, and I couldn't do a thing to stop anyone, much less cry for help. As soon as we reached a clearing where the grated ceiling opened into a box-shaped chamber, Seth--that is, I broke the calm, the joke sounding so natural it was unnerving--a perfect ruse.

"Hey Princess, your epidermis is showing."

Okay, that was really juvenile. Surely Marle wouldn't... "Huh? Where?" She paused, spun around and raised her parka, checking herself. Good grief, she fell for it.

Wait a second... Why would Seth ask for her name if he wasn't going to use it? _'How did you know she was a princess?'_

_**'Ssserioussly? Hah! Lucky guesss.'**_

Great, I only gave him more ammunition. Seth wasn't finished, either, and the next words out of my mouth held enough malice to make me ill. "Hah, sucker. Were you born this stupid or did it take years of practice? I bet your family's gene pool uses bleach instead of chlorine, you dumb blonde bitch."

"What...??" Marle whirled to me and everyone else stopped. I watched the vulnerable, betrayed look build up to overflowing in eyes so frightfully wide they shimmered, and then there was a spark of the princess's flintlock anger. "What was that for?!"

Crono spun around, his shock just as quickly giving way to a rebuke, and with a cutting look that I never wanted to be on the receiving end of again, he started to say, _What the hell is wrong with you?_ However, as soon as our eyes met, he stopped short, his expression dropping like a brick. He could tell, and Seth could tell, and there was an awful second where the next move could make or break everything.

"Marle," Crono uttered, not even thinking--his hushed tone terribly obvious in the stock-still room--trying to warn her. Of course, Marle's reflex was to turn back to him, and that was it. The moment she was looking the wrong way, Seth lunged, hooked her by the neck, twisted her arm behind her back and held her tight.

If the others hadn't realized something was wrong by now, Marle's disarmed shriek gave it away. "Lucca!? What are you--"

"Shut up!" My voice cracked off the walls like a whip. I almost didn't register my pistol being drawn and held to her temple. "Just shut up, you squeaky brat. Nobody move, or I redecorate this place with Her Highness's brains. Got it?"

Oh, crap. Crap crap crap we were _screwed_. It didn't matter that Crono was right after him, katana pointed at Seth--at _me_, because the hesitation was there and too late. Even though Crono's grip was tense and steady, the blade held an unwavering pace away from my throat, the quivering glint to his eyes said everything. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't know what to do. Marle gasped and immediately quit struggling, while everyone else reeled in a circle around us.

Mishu squinted at me, appropriately perturbed. "What the fu--"

"What be the meaning of this??" Frog was on his toes, hand reflexively resting on his sword.

"Hrmph. Is this a Mystic trick?" Magus asked.

Seth's conniving grin was painful to bear. "Bingo. What if I told you I was in league with the Mystics all along, hmm?"

Crono's gaze was fixed on me as he shook his head adamantly. Ayla wasn't fooled, either. "You! What going on? Where Lucca? Give back friend, now!"

Thankfully their conviction was contagious. Frog lowered his brow with what I could swear was a _growl_, and the Masamune flashed before him. Could frogs growl? "Thou art not Miss Lucca. What hast thou done with her?"

"Tch, looks like not all of you are brainless," Seth remarked. "Oh well, that makes it more fun for me. So what are you going to do now, dear friends? I wouldn't be so hasty with those weapons, if I were you. Let's remember that I'm the one with the gun, here." Marle squirmed and he wrenched her closer with a gag that surely left a bruise. A reciprocal cry caught in Crono's throat and his foot jerked forward, itching to jump to her rescue--yet he grit his teeth and lowered his sword, wisely not testing Seth.

_"Whoa! He's a rapier!"_ Masa spoke up.  
_"Yeah he's got her totally possessed,"_ Mune confirmed.

Frog startled back a notch. "Possessed??"

"'Rape-er'? What that? Can Ayla fight?"

Mishu's query was more practical, if no more discreet. "How the hell do you get rid of it?"

_"Well, you, ah, uh..."_ Mune floundered for an answer. _"What're you supposed to do again, bro?"  
__"Grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye, I think. Rapiers can spontaneously kill their hosts."_

I almost had a heart attack right there. _'What!?'_ Marle stiffened with a suppressed squeak. Seth was merely amused by the proceedings.

"Hah! A talking sword. How novel. Not that it'll do you fleshbags any good." _**'Heh, don't worry. I won't kill you before I've had any fun.'**_

"What you want? Say now, or Ayla make you talk!" she bellowed, unnecessarily loud, although the force of her sentiment was clear.

The sound of my mad laughter was sickening. "Ahahaha! And how do you plan to do that, hmm?"

"Guys..." Marle whimpered tearfully, right by my ear. I wanted to cry, too. _'You son of a bitch!'_ I fired uselessly. _'Whatever you're doing, it isn't going to work!'_

_**'Shut up and watccchhh...'**_

Seth looked over his captive audience, appraising the stalemate with a derisive smirk. "Look at you stupid humans. Don't even know what to do with yourselves. This is great. Two hostages for the price of one! It's almost too easy. To be honest, I'm not supposed to do anything. I was only asked to watch you people. But I got bored, so I decided to spice things up a little. I'm sure nobody would object if I killed you all, instead."

Frog croaked. "Fiend! Thou must be Seth!"

"Right-o. You're not too bad at this." He tapped the barrel of my gun against Marle's head, musing, "Think you're clever enough to save your pretty friend, though? I wonder..."

Magus folded his arms, the picture of callous indifference. "What makes you think we care?" Crono shot him a look fit to kill.

Seth was delighted. "Hah! The wizard has some balls. By the way, I have to thank you all for taking care of those robots. They're the most obnoxious things, no fun at all. I much prefer playing with flesh and blood."

Well, if anybody still wasn't convinced that I was possessed, that comment should've cinched it. Seth loosened his grip on Marle (although not on the gun, everyone noticed with dismay) and seemed to be fishing for something, although I couldn't recognize what my left hand was doing. "Let's see, what else..." With a snap of the fingers a tongue of flame appeared on the tip of my thumb, like some gimmick lighter. "Ah! A fire mage. I like this vessel even better. Playing with fire is one of my favorite things. For instance..."

He swept a pointing finger over the group that landed on Frog. Without further warning--not even the typical trill of a magic spell--the tail of his cape ignited. Ayla sprang away from the sudden burst while Frog jumped in a circle, trying to stamp out the blaze without tripping over himself.

Seth cackled all the while. "Looks like frogs and fire don't mix. Ahahaha!"

I'd never underestimate Marle's ability to seize the moment again, because dead in the middle of that laugh she threw her weight backwards, jamming her elbow into my diaphragm and nearly knocking a lung out. It was the most reckless move ever, if effective, yet as I fell onto my back Seth squeezed the gun's trigger. The wild shot flew to the ceiling, where it knocked loose a rusty pipe and sent it clanging to the ground. Crono leapt sideways, pushing Frog out of the way and narrowly avoiding it, himself. Marle stepped on me as she staggered away (presumably on accident, since she yelped, "Sorry!" of all things) and I saw stars for a minute as Seth scrambled for control over my winded faculties.

_**'Get up, you useless vessel!'**_ he cursed, and the only thing that hurt more than a heel to the gut was realizing that I couldn't reach my only window to freedom because I couldn't catch my breath. Then someone pounced on me--I couldn't see who it was, but it felt like getting trampled by a really big, unapologetic dog. The gun was kicked out of my grasp and my shoulder pack was yanked away in one swift moment, and then whoever it was tore off. Once the spots cleared Seth seized me, and I clambered to my feet.

Seth had to size up the room all over again. Crono helped Frog put out his flaming cape. Marle had picked up my gun, and Magus was by her side, giving her a fair idea of what to do with it. "What are you waiting for? Point it at her."

Even from where I was standing I could see Marle trembling. "But, I..."

"Do it. She's still possessed, you idiot." I was almost surprised Magus didn't tell her to go ahead and shoot.

In the other corner, Ayla was holding my bag--she was the one who mugged me? Crono hurriedly motioned for her to pass it to him, and Mishu bounded to his side right after that, a gust of what looked to be magic catching her wings and making her steps light. She muttered something over his shoulder and Crono looked at me--first with surprise, but then an intent nod. What did Mishu just tell him? Did they have a plan? I didn't dare let Seth hear my hopes.

"Heh!" He simply laughed, never showing a lapse of confidence. "You stupid humans. This doesn't change anything." To wit, he spun a ball of flame into one hand and then looked straight at Marle--straight past the gun tentatively aimed between my eyes. "Go on, shoot me. You'll only kill this girl. Then I'll just have to play with another one of you."

Marle's aim fell and she shook her head furiously, loose strands of hair catching in the swollen corners of her eyes--she _was_ crying. "No!" she yelled, seemingly at everything, her fear and frustration impossible to articulate beyond that single word.

"Like hell you will..." Mishu snarled, just as everyone else rallied behind Marle.

"Ayla not let you take anyone!"

"Over our dead bodies," Frog asserted as he recomposed himself, the Masamune held on the defense.

Seth cracked up. "Hah! That's the plan!" He threw an arc of flame at everyone's feet with a flourish, making the group skip back. "Let's get started, shall we?"

I would've done anything in the world to stop the fight that unfolded, yet powerless as I was, at that moment I would have settled for not having to watch. But I had to watch--I watched Seth throw me into battle under a mantle of flame. The first spell was a clumsy, playful chord meant for Marle, and she successfully danced out of reach. Mishu wasn't that lucky--the next fireball was fast and direct, clipping her skirt and eliciting a curse. Frog and Ayla ducked under one wave of fire, and Crono hurdled the next. Seth was picking on them--herding them around the room like harried sheep, not affording anyone a second to stop and regroup.

The worst part was that it wasn't a real fight; I was the only one attacking. When no one advanced to stop him, Seth started dabbling in ranged magic--spells that could turn the baseboards to ash and blow the paint off the bricks like hot wax. At the rate I was casting, I thought I would run out of what the Zealians called "mahna pool" (or "magic juice," as Spekkio put it)--because it's happened to all of us before and it's a very distinct and unpleasant _drained_ sensation--but under Seth's influence the magic just kept flowing. I wasn't tiring at all.

If I could count on one thing, it was my friends' ability to act as a team, even under duress. A conversation struck up while everyone was scurrying from one fiery hazard to the next.

"How are we supposed to kill this motherfucker?!" Mishu posed as she skidded behind a barrier of ice Marle constructed. Seth knocked it down in a heartbeat, yet Marle held her ground and called forth the magic again. Frog was taking a more combative approach, bouncing around and mopping up my rampant spells with the Masamune--which was mulling over a solution between every swipe.

_"You gotta zap 'im when he comes out,"_ Mune instructed.  
_"Rapiers are most vulnerable while they're taking or leaving a host,"_ Masa elaborated.

Which was why Seth waited for one of us get to singled out. Damnit. "That doesn't help us right now, you shits!" Mishu impatiently snapped.

"So magic will work?" Marle asked, grasping that thread of hope.

_"If you can draw him out, yeah. Maybe if the host is--whoa buddy!"_ The blade absorbed a wide swath of fire before resuming. _"--knocked out?"_

"I can hear everything you knuckleheads are saying," Seth cut in, impressing even me with the booming tone. There was no loss of relish in what he said next. "You know, I can override this vessel's nervous system and keep her awake for days, so you'd better kill her _before I get bored_."

I hated being this sick bastard's joy ride. _'That's a hell of a bluff,'_ I spat.

Seth might have had a witty retort, but my friends' response was impossibly prompt. A sheet of ice crashed into me like a truck, driving me into the wall. It was a low-level, brittle spell that shattered on impact, although it was enough to shear cloth and skin and leave me scratched and dazed.

"Magus, _don't!_" Marle wailed an objection, although it was Seth who made the next move, and he wasn't fooling around anymore. The magic that sailed off my fingertips was so hot and fast it was like tossing an exploding grenade, and I couldn't remember casting a spell that potent since Lavos. I was only relieved that it was intended for Magus and not the whole room, because I was sure I knew even stronger spells, and if Seth tried to access--say, _Flare_--in such close quarters, the results would be devastating.

Magus didn't have a problem, regardless. While everyone else recoiled from the fireball, he swatted it aside like a fly, tendrils of a blizzard wafting off his knuckles. "You're going to have to do better than that," he flatly mocked.

Seth was still smiling. He was having the time of his life at our expense. "I could play this game all day." He raised a hand, armed with the next spell. From the corner of my eye I watched Crono crouch in the corner and root through my stolen travel pack. He withdrew something tiny, white and round, studied it for a second and then handed it to Mishu with a whisper. So they did have a plan. If only Magus could keep Seth distracted...

Unfortunately, he noticed just as well as I did. _**'Heh, what is that, a rotten egg? Do they plan to stink bomb themselves out of this or what?'**_

_'Yeah...'_ I thought cautiously, letting him believe whatever he wanted. I wasn't going to risk an outright lie; if Crono could read them crystal-clear, Seth probably could, too.

Seth's next flame was quicker, more compact and slightly more lethal, and Magus dodged that one rather than deflected it. He then struck back with a lightning bolt that Seth was lucky to sidestep, even though it grazed my right arm and seared the nerves up to my shoulder like a jellyfish lash.

If this was going to be a contest of magic, Seth was going to lose--and I think he was counting on that. He knew I didn't have the strength or resources--magically, anyway--to stand up to Magus. I don't think anybody on the planet did, save the wielder of the Masamune.

"Gweh, heh heh!" Seth laughed like a loon, swaying on my feet as he shook off the numbing shock. "Nice! Nice one..."

"Hrmph. Useless. I should've just killed you in the beginning," Magus said in a low, aggravated tone that wasn't directed at Seth anymore. He stood tall and unaffected, outstretched arm leveled at me--blunt, accusing and charged with magic. I realized that he was blaming me for this--for falling behind, for being weak and careless enough to let Seth take me, and for being a _general inconvenience_. He must have been waiting for a chance to get me out of the way the whole time, and giving away the Gate Key--our only bargaining chip--was just the last straw.

_**'What great friends you have! They're doing all the hard work of killing you for me.'**_

_'Shut up!'_

"Stop, Magus!" Ayla barked, braced to jump between us. She didn't get the chance. Magus's hand opened with another crackle of lightning, his face a stony mask. Rule number one, never forget: Magus didn't care about any of us. He always said that anyone who got in his way would perish. I just wasn't counting on it ending like this when he appeared in my bedroom that morning.

Then came the flash. My last, highly absurd thought was that I was about to die just like that heckran in the Magic Cave. There was a snap of light so intense it was like having your photograph taken on the surface of the sun, and then I was barreled over.

I blinked, staring blindly at the ceiling, yet before I could be amazed that my capacity to blink had returned--or that I had eyelids left to blink at all--I realized that crushing, electric weight wasn't a lightning spell. There was someone sitting on me, anchoring me to the ground with a set of hands clamped around my neck, and once the sunspots washed out of my vision, I saw who it was.

_'Crono!'_ He leaned over me, frazzled and a little breathless, yet his trenchant eyes told me he was acting with pure, unabated purpose--that is to say, he had some stupid idea, and it was supposed to save me.

"...told me... it would... fuckin' bright!" I blearily heard Mishu complain from an obscure corner.

"Oh my gosh, what the...!?" At least Marle was as bewildered as I.

"Fcksus... human..." Seth seethed, shakily pulling up my hands to latch onto Crono's wrists. With what felt like the last of my reserves, another spell smoldered under my palms, burning the flesh I touched like a branding iron. Crono winced with a flush of hissing pain, yet set his jaw and refused to budge.

_'No! Idiot! He'll kill you!'_ I fruitlessly hollered, but then I started to feel it--that endermic foxfire, our weird connection--eroding the cold sand smothering my senses like a warm ocean tide. I could almost count the rapier's intangible fetters snapping one-by-one, and Seth's presence became a violent stirring beneath my skin, racking my whole body with a spasm. Crono steeled up, piling his strength into his arms and holding me down with his every ounce of determination (and yet his eyes were squinted shut--he couldn't even look at me, he couldn't even watch.)

It was all too much--enough to make me sick and dizzy and giddy, wondering if the ghost I watched rise out of my chest like smoke was my own. It looked like coal dust, was no bigger than a cat and had eyes like candles, orange and fierce. It was only when Crono reared away from it with a baffled, distressed look that I determined it wasn't some trick of my oxygen-starved brain--holy crap I was choking, _I was choking the whole time_.

The thing's hazy mouth gaped as if to scream, and then I heard one last, railing screech against the confines of my mind, desperate and confused. _**'WhAt iS tHiS?!'**_

_"Now!" "Get him!"_ Masa and Mune shouted in unison, and I lapsed into peaceful, oblivious black.

* * *

A/N: Huh, two chapters in a row ending with Lucca passing out. She's not having a good day.

Feel free to let me know if anything is confusing! Or thoughts in general. Feedback is cool. Next time: The Beast Talent, and some long-overdue answers.


	18. The Beast Talent

**18. The Beast Talent**

I don't think I was out very long, because I woke up in the middle of a squabble-and it couldn't have been an ordinary trifle, because Marle only adopted that loud, fussy tone when she was royally pissed off.

"You were going to kill her!"

"That was the idea."

For a blissful moment I couldn't remember what I was doing on the floor, how I got there or why Marle was angry. I assumed that Magus had made another of his typical jerk moves, and considered myself lucky not to be witness to it.

"Excuse me?"

Actually, altogether I felt nice and... fuzzy, and there was a pleasant warmth stemming from my left arm that I didn't recognize until I opened my eyes.

"Did you want to keep that idiot spirit occupied or not? Your foolish plan wouldn't have worked if I hadn't looked convincing."

Crono was close, sitting next to me and looking off in the direction of the argument with an expression that was unnervingly solemn and reserved. From that alone I could tell something bad had happened, although it took Magus's words and the gentle squeeze of my fingers (Why was Crono holding my hand...?) to awaken a flood of memories that would've been better repressed.

"Ah...!" I sat up with a gasp, taking my hand back and watching the room whirl into dark and dreary focus. That kind, bleary warmth trickled out of my arm and I heard the muffled score of five pairs of feet shuffling towards me. The first thing I saw clearly was Crono leaning off one knee, asking if I was all right with a paranoid tick that didn't suit him, even while braced to jump in the opposite direction. Of course he didn't trust me-nobody should, but that thought didn't exactly assuage the twinge of guilt in my chest.

What had that-why didn't I-how could I have let that monster possess me and attack my friends?

I glimpsed Frog and Mishu at a safe pace behind Crono, covering his back, and Ayla wasn't too far away, although she was standing at ease. I couldn't quite read her face. Magus was out of view, probably behind me. They were waiting for me to say or do something out of the ordinary, although I couldn't form half an excuse for myself before Marle swooped in like an angel of mercy, her halo splintering into a mess of blonde curls. She looked flushed with receding rage and sounded surprisingly apologetic. "Lucca! Are you okay? Do you remember anything? That Seth guy, he was like a ghost! He possessed you for a while. He made your eyes a funny color, too-like, orange. It was scary."

"Yeah, I know," I croaked. Well, I didn't know about the eye color thing. That was interesting in a creepy way, though I wasn't concerned with the visual details of the possession at the moment. My throat felt dry and stuffy, and I couldn't get my hands to quit shaking, even when I leaned back on them to shy away from the princess's prying graces. Wasn't she worried that I would do something rash-if I was still possessed? I knew that Seth was gone (although I wasn't sure how), but how could she be so assured? Why was Marle always so...?

"I know," I started again, bolstering my words with strength I didn't have. "I could see everything, I just couldn't..." I met her eyes, full of trust and concern and emerald water that could heal the blind if she only prayed for it, and my heart broke. Marle's faith in people was astounding-something I could never grasp. She believed in me, and yet I just... "I... I-I'm sorry." My voice cracked, and everything I meant to say fell to pieces. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't..."

Marle knelt to the floor and hugged me. "Shh, it's okay, we know. We're just glad you're okay." She smelled like lemons. It was nice. How did she always smell so nice? We had been on and off the road for what felt like a week now, and I was pretty sure I reeked of wet socks.

"Everyone fares well. That be all that matters," Frog spoke.

Ayla stepped forth with an encouraging nod. "All good! Seth gone, no one hurt bad. Glad Lucca back."

I wished no one got hurt at all... "And Seth...?" I asked feebly.

"Magus make lightning, zap good. Turn into ash and blow away," Ayla explained. Marle passed the warlock behind me a flustered look and elaborated, "He was keeping Seth distracted with that spell, although he didn't have to be such a jerk about it."

Magus delivered a poignant, "Whatever," and drew his cloak around himself, shunning the group.

I swallowed a couple of sobs and scrubbed my eyes. I wasn't sure what I was sorry for-being an idiot, maybe. Magus was right; I was useless. I couldn't even save myself. I needed to fix that, starting now-I had to say something light to pick up the mood. "Heh... I don't deserve you guys."

Marle gave me a friendly shake and said with forced merriment, "Hey, that's what friends are for! That was a close one, though. You're pretty tough, you know that? It's a good thing Crono knocked that ghost out of you."

Right, that was how it happened. Crono used that... weird touch, thing... to get Seth to release me. I almost couldn't believe that worked. Where did he get such a crazy notion? Were the others aware of what he had truly done? I watched Crono's shoulders slump with relief and felt a little better, despite myself.

"Huh, yeah, I..." I trailed off, fixating on a piece of cloth on the ground in front of me. It was purple and burnt around the edges with rugged, umber stains. I looked ahead and found Mishu wearing the matching tattered skirt. She was leaning passively on one leg with her arms crossed, affecting indifference, and hadn't yet said a word. Initially I felt another surge of guilt, because that proved my fire magic responsible for hurting her, too, but then I found it funny-in a really detached way-that my attention was brought to that rag, because with the scorch marks and all it looked just like...

...Wait a minute.

"Crono..." I said quietly, forgetting Seth's strife and everything not connected to what was now egregiously obvious. I crawled forward, picked up that cloth, examined it for a moment-same texture, color and everything save the blood ciphers-and then handed it to him. "What does this look like?"

It took him maybe ten seconds. Crono peered at the cloth, looked at me, looked back at the cloth, looked at me again, and then looked at Mishu-hard. She stared back with a vexed and apprehensive, "What?"

I couldn't think quickly enough to keep Crono from rising, drawing the Rainbow and whipping it towards Mishu so fast the air whuffed a beat. Everyone else startled, capes and scarves flying as weapons were reproduced.

"Crono!"

"Wha?"

"Whoa!"

Mishu was either amazingly bold or a good judge of distance, because aside from tipping her chin away from the blade that stopped inches before her jugular, she didn't flinch.

"What be the meaning of this?" Frog edged in, enough authority in his tone and the partially revealed Masamune to make an army stand down. Crono flicked him a glance I didn't catch, yet I could read from his stance that he wasn't about to compromise.

Disturbingly enough, Mishu grinned straight down the Rainbow's iridescent edge. "Heh. You think that queer sword makes you look tough?"

"I wouldn't try him," Marle said, backing up Crono's unspoken threat even though she didn't have a clue what was going on.

Ayla shook her head and rocked back on her heels, fists raised and guarded. "What happen? No more fight each other! 'Rape-er' again?"

"No, it's not a rapier," I rushed to say before the disorder got out of hand. I climbed to my feet and faced Mishu, as well, although my gun was missing-didn't Marle take it? I never minded it-it was the last thing I would need, especially with Crono bearing a razor-sharp confession out of her.

"Figured it out, huh?" Mishu said with flat, dry amusement. "I was wondering how long it would take."

I swiftly realized I had to become the mediator in this, since all the others were out of the loop. I also figured there was nothing more to lose, so I might as well throw everything out in the open. "You! You've been following us the whole time! What are you really after? What did you do to me and Crono?" Marle fidgeted and Frog blinked at that last question. There was going to be some explaining to do, but I waited for Mishu to go first.

"I wasn't following all your clown asses!" she snapped defensively. She then looked at me and said, grudgingly subdued, "I was only following yours."

Crono's focus didn't waver, although there was now a disconcerted pinch to his brow. Mishu rolled her eyes towards Magus and then back to me, mindful not to make a sudden move otherwise. "And the black mage's. At first. For a while. But I was more interested in you."

Magus tipped his gaze in our direction with renewed interest, and any threadbare conviction Marle was showing dissolved into confusion. "Huh...?" I was thrown off guard, myself. "What? Me? What for?"

"Couple of reasons. You're the one who had that key thing, to work the gates. I thought you could fix the shrine, so I could go home. But then I realized you'd make a good test subject."

"Test subject?" I bristled, and I could practically see Crono's hackles rise as his arm tensed. "What the hell you mean by that?"

She licked her lips, hesitating-weighing my reaction on the Rainbow's rigid scale. "...You're the one who asked me about the blight."

That... came entirely out of nowhere. "What's that got to do with it...?" I asked, dread slowly filling the empty hole in my gut.

"The blight. The Darkness," she said, speaking with the same sobriety she used that last night on Jerad's roof. "This whole damn planet reeks of Darkness, but you're the first person I've seen with the blight. You're the first human I've seen anywhere with it. Humans are supposed to be immune."

"What...?" I shook my head, reeling. "I don't have the blight!"

Mishu growled. "Please, bitch. If I know anything, it's the dark scars when I see them." Heedless of Crono's sword, she grabbed one strap of her top and wrenched it aside, baring her shoulder-enough to show the spidery black veins and purple blotches gradually eclipsing the healthy skin like an infectious bruise. "Does this look familiar?"

Degrees of shock and disgust rippled through the room, and before I realized it, I had backed up to the wall. Even as the words spilled out, I couldn't modulate them to a safe tone. "No, no it doesn't! I swear! I've got nothing to do with your blight! Are you crazy?" It was just a snake bite. A _snakebite_.

_'Heh, heh heh...'_ the black voice chortled thickly.

But it was too late. Half the room was looking at me like I was the crazy one, and it was Marle who asked with that damning thread of suspicion, "Lucca, what is she talking about...?"

Mishu pinned me with an incriminating finger. "Check her right leg! It looks like the fuckin' plague. I've seen actual fiends with less obvious marks. You don't trust me? See for yourself. It's the fuckin' _blight_."

"Shut up! It's a lie!" The more I tried to sound adamant, the more I sounded like I was panicking. Maybe I was. Frog was staring, and Ayla offered an outstretched step that seemed to fall short, her hand hesitating in midair. Crono had this wide, bemused look on his face, like he didn't know what to think. I retreated another step and suddenly remembered there was a wall, so my knees buckled and I slipped to the ground. "It's not true! Stay away from me!"

I clutched my head, trying to shut out the black laughter as it soared into a crescendo. _'Ha, hahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!'_

Marle jumped to fill my place, holding her crossbow down yet ready as she accosted the disingenuous dragon lady, "Hang on! You haven't answered anything! What did you do to Lucca, and what does it have to do with Crono?"

Mishu rolled her shoulder, readjusting her top, and clucked disgracefully. "Tch. I was only trying to help. I wanted to see if it would cure the blight. It's not my fault it didn't work."

"Not thy fault _what_ didn't work?" Frog pressed, although his sword beat him to the punch, in a sense. Mune's voice rang out, _"We could have told you that, you dumb broad! That's not what beast links are made to do!"_

"Beast links?" Marle echoed, still lost-and so was I, though my mind was scrambling to make a connection to something I skimmed over in the T'torlan. I took the opportunity to quell the bile seeping up my throat and find my composure. I almost succeeded-I was able to stand without throwing up, at least. I didn't have to let anything that rotten bat lady said get to me. It was stupid, it was wrong, it was just Mishu trying to... to... I couldn't even figure out what she wanted. Maybe she was lying for the hell of it, to screw with us. _I don't have the damn blight._ I wasn't turning into a monster.

"I beast linked you kids," Mishu brashly admitted, nodding at Crono and me. "It's a type of soul bond. It joins one person's beast to another."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I rebounded. "What the hell is a 'beast'? You're still not making any sense."

Mune began to expound, _"Beasts are a part of the tritoch soul theory. You see, they're for... uh... the neiphiti use them to..."_ His voice caught, and you could almost hear a sheepish grin. _"Eheh. I can't say it! Spot me, bro."_

Mishu spoke before Masa got a chance. "Oh grow up, you dick knob. Beast links are for married couples. It's supposed to complete the bond, in a normal ceremony."

"Married couples?" Marle and I exclaimed while Crono gaped at the implications.

"Yeah. It's not like a full-on soul meld or anything huge like that. It only forms a bond between two people's beasts-just a fraction of their souls. It also heightens certain senses to encourage... heh." She cracked a sardonic grin. "We use it for breeding on my home world, if you must know."

Holy _hell_. That explained a bit too much. "And you did that to me and Crono? Are you nuts? What the hell for?" I railed at her.

"If it's _done right_, it has healing properties completely different from white magic," she stressed, defending that clause. "Magic don't do shit about the blight, but a strong enough beast link can cure diseases and even save people from death. It's powerful stuff."

_"But it doesn't help against the Darkness,"_ Masa stated her conclusion.

"No, apparently fuckin' not," she conceded bitterly. "But you can't tell me it wasn't worth a shot."

_"Uh, actually, you might just give the boy the blight too-you consider that?"_ Masa censured her.  
_"Bet not, stupid neiphiti,"_ Mune grumbled.

Crono shook his head, more nonplussed than anything. I blanched and caught the wall again, fingers digging for purchase in the cracks between the bricks. Having this blight nonsense was one thing (which I did _not_), but if I gave it to anyone else, let alone Crono... No, no no. I would have rather died right then. I'd rather die than let Crono know what it was like-the scars, those voices...

_'Don't forget turning into a monster.'_ Shut UP. "You still could have told us!" I yelled, almost as outraged as I was horrified. No, stay calm, keep cool-there's surely a rational, scientific explanation for everything. Right?

"I didn't think it would be such a big deal! You two looked pretty damn cozy the other night in that castle. I thought you were his girlfriend." Crono did a double-take while Mishu smirked in Marle's direction. "It got pretty hilarious when she showed up, though."

"Huh? Wait, you guys..." The gears were turning in Marle's head; she was starting to understand-or misunderstand, as Crono feared. He turned a mortified look her way while I fired back at Mishu, "No, it's not funny at all! That's what happens when you assume stuff! I'm not anybody's girlfriend!"

Mishu snorted. "Yeah, and I'm starting to see why."

I was dumbstruck. We were pointing weapons at this woman, pretty much threatening her life if she didn't give us some straight answers, and she was smirking and flinging insults. And I was supposed to be the crazy one?

"Ohhh!" A figurative light went off over Marle's head. "So that's what's been going on." She then turned a hurt, innocent look on her boyfriend. "Crono, why didn't you just tell me?"

That's a funny question to ask a mute guy. He gave an abashed grimace and started running his free hand in open, disinvesting circles. "We didn't even know what was happening. It's not our fault, you know? We didn't do anything, I swear," I reasoned on his behalf. Speaking up for him probably didn't help his case, but if we waited for Crono to sort out his own we would've been there all day. He shot me an irked twitch and then sighed, wagging his head in defeat. _Sorry. I should've told you._

"So that rag they found came from you," Magus spoke up with an inflection of the shadiest curiosity. "That was blood you used to write on it, wasn't it?"

I almost envied Ayla and Frog, who were watching everything from the sidelines with guiltless, clueless fronts. "What in the world...?" the latter muttered while Mishu supplied, "Yeah. Do I look like I carry a fuckin' pen on me?"

She barely carried _real clothes_, so I guess that was one point for her. "Whose blood? Yours?" I questioned.

"No, yours," she said, as if it were supposed to be obvious. "Whose did you think? It's part of the ritual. You slit the wrists and then tie them together."

Crono and I checked our arms-we didn't bear any such cuts. "You slit our wrists? How? I don't see a scar or anything..."

Mishu shook her head and stated, "Nope, there shouldn't be any. That's how you know the link took-it'll heal overnight."

"Geez, and if it didn't, we would've just bleed to death?"

Her reply was as abrasive as ever. "If you do it like a fuckin' retard, yeah! But I didn't screw you guys' link up, so quit whining. It's actually what just saved all your asses from that rapier, so maybe you could call off the knives and pitchforks and be a little more grateful." Her wings flexed and shifted behind her back as she squared a challenging look at Crono. "...Well?"

Their eyes locked, scrutinizing one another for any false intentions, and at length Crono backed down, sheathing his sword. "You think this makes us even? You've been playing games with us all this time! That doesn't make you any better than Seth," Marle reproached, even as the grip on her crossbow relented.

"Oh fuck you, Princess," Mishu spat indignantly. "I didn't just try to mindfuck everyone in this room to death. I don't want to kill anybody."

Even if I shouldn't have bought that, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and attempted to negotiate. "...All right. What _do_ you want?"

Mishu huffed. "Aside from fixing the gate rings and getting off this rock? Nothing, that's it. I'm asking what _you_ want."

Marle blinked. "Uh... us?"

"You can break this beast link whatever, for starters!" I demanded. Crono nodded insistently.

Mishu grimaced and drawled ruefully, "Yeeeaah... No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean it's not a curse; you can't just lift or break it. It's a soul bond, okay? It's like gluing two pieces of paper together. If I try to rip it apart it'll probably just kill you both."

I couldn't freaking believe this. "So we're stuck like this permanently?"

"No..." She said cautiously, mulling over the options with a whiff of uncertainty. "It'll wear off eventually. I think. As long as you leave it alone and don't do anything to consummate it." She bounced a funny, testing look between Crono and me. "You idiots didn't consummate it, did you?"

Crono spun a bewildered look around him-and then at me and Marle, before shaking his head like a madman. "I'm afraid to ask what that even means!" I nearly gagged.

"Heheh," Mishu snickered. "If you don't know, then you didn't do it."

"Are you going to keep following us?" Magus got to the heart of the matter.

"What do you think? I'm after Ramezia, too. How else am I going to get home? I'm not kidding about the Darkness here; I want to get off this planet as soon as possible," Mishu confirmed. "Tell you people what, though: I can offer you something. A kind of power you won't find on this world."

Marle then said the wisest thing I'd heard all day. "Then why would we want it...?" Exactly. You can't trust people offering power.

"It might help you get to Ramezia. Trust me, this is unique. It's a type of magic-summoning magic, but it calls on the beast within you. We call it the _Gi'ira_. I can teach it to all of you."

"Ayla not need magic!" she finally chipped in. "No can learn, anyway."

"That doesn't matter. If you're human and have a soul, you've got the beast talent. It just needs to be awakened," Mishu assured her.

How gullible did she think we were? "Oh, please!" I scoffed. "How do we know you won't just put a real curse on us?"

Incredibly, it was Masa who backed her up. _"She's talking about the _Gi'ira sec l'On_. It's a blessing neiphiti spirit mages can grant to humans."  
__"Phbt, 'blessing.' If you can call it that."_

You're a spirit mage?" I wondered, while Marle had to ask, "What does it do?"

"That giant butter knife can try to explain it to you all day, or I could just show you." She beckoned Ayla with one clawed hand. "Com'ere. Since you're such a knuckle-headed skeptic, you can go first."

Ayla barely gave it a thought, marching forward to accept Mishu's invitation. Frog issued a warning ribbit and tried to bar her path, but Ayla brazenly pushed his arm aside. "Okay. Try anything! Ayla not scared." I had to admire her confidence, I supposed.

_"Oh boy. This is going to get interesting,"_ was Masa's last comment.

Ayla stood before the neiphiti with her hands braced on her hips, ready for anything, and Mishu gripped her shoulders with an unpromising sneer. "Good. Hold still and relax. This won't hurt a bit."

It looked just like an ordinary magic spell, at first. Mishu closed her eyes and began murmuring some unintelligible chant beneath the climbing howl of an intangible, ethereal wind. I can't believe we all stood back and watched Mishu perform her strange voodoo beast curse on one of our friends, but something fascinating about the unknown prospect (and Masa and Mune's lack of objections, which differed from their usual attitude towards Mishu) grounded us to the spot. Curiosity killed the cat, they say.

I'm not sure how to describe it-it was like watching a grass fire catch, spreading from Mishu's hands and enveloping Ayla in a blazing golden aura. Ayla jumped back as if scalded by the touch, but by then she was almost too bright to look at, her entire form blending into a solid, dancing orange flame. Her shape twisted and bent, the winds of magic roaring about her, and I vaguely heard Marle cry Ayla's name over the din. It seemed as if Ayla phased out of the third dimension for a moment, becoming a white silhouette over the grimy, scorched floor, but then the light began to fade and assume a new form, like cooling lava poured into a mould.

The winds died down, and the result-the _thing_ that appeared in Ayla's place was... uncanny. It was covered in short, dusty blonde fur and hunched over the ground on four powerful legs. It had broad shoulders, a stout neck, and a pair of round nubs set behind its sloping skull for ears. Its long, slender tail swished and arched over its lean, muscular back as the creature panted in a rough, throaty, bestial snarl.

It was a big, living, breathing, sabre-toothed cat. It was huge, too-the rest of us could probably ride on its back together with little effort (well, maybe not Magus. We'd have to push him off.) "Oh my God..." Marle said numbly, and I only wished I was that articulate at the moment.

I looked at Mishu, who was wearing an altogether smug expression. Eventually, I found the words I needed. "Did you just... turn Ayla... into a smilodon?"

The creature was disoriented, swaying on its padded toes and panning a feral set of violet eyes around its company-not angry or frightened, just... bedazzled. "T-That's a big cat..." Frog stammered as he pedaled backwards, away from its snooping muzzle with the wickedly long incisors.

Marle crouched before the cat, gazing into its feline visage with a mix of awe and unchecked wonder. Geez, it looked big enough to swallow her in one gulp. "Ayla? Is that really you?"

We jerked back in alarm as the cat nuzzled Marle hard enough to knock her onto her rump. I got over my mild heart attack once I heard the princess squeal and giggle in delight while Ayla smothered her with a giant cat's tongue. "Eeeee! Ehehe, oh my gosh, cut it out! That tickles!"

Magus harrumphed his disapproval. "_This _is the power? To turn into animals? Useless."

Mishu sniffed back, "Hey, I said it was a _unique_ power, not a great one. Everyone's beast is different."

Ayla let Marle go and began to prance around the room, leaping from corner to corner and sweeping her whiskers over everything like an oversized kitten. "Ayla seems to be getting a kick out of it..." I remarked as we tried to stay out of her way.

Marle wiped the cat slobber off her face and got back on her feet. "Can she change back?"

Mishu answered with an airy shrug. "If she wants."

Ayla, overhearing that, paused as if to consider the possibility of being a giant cat forever. She grunted, shook her large head, and then just like that ignited in that molten amber light again. The transition from beast to woman was much smoother, leaving Ayla on all fours and shaking off the sparkly vestiges of her transformation like a wet dog.

"Brrrr!" She jumped up, roaring and beating her breast like her usual self. "Yes! Ayla love it! Be like beast, great hunter cat, raaaawr! Can do again?"

"You can do it whenever you want. The power is yours now," Mishu granted.

Marle began to hop in place, her exuberance evident. "Oh! Oh! Can I try next? Please? That looks so cool!"

This felt familiar-Crono had the exact same, extremely reluctant look he was sporting when Marle first volunteered to try my Telepod. _Maybe you shouldn't..._

Ayla was all for it, however. "Marle try, have fun! Make feel strong, full of life!"

"Okay!" She nodded and skipped up to Mishu, who simply rolled her eyes. "Alright, Princess. Hold still, and remember this chant..."

The light was different this time-light blue, much like the aura that surrounded Marle when she cast ice spells. It swept her off her feet in a whirl of cerulean flame that made her shrink, rather than grow like Ayla, and for a second I feared the magic would consume her frail shape and make the princess disappear. When the blizzard parted, however, we were gawking at an airborne animal: an eagle. It was a specimen I'd never even heard of, its plumage as blue as the sky and ticked with snowflakes. It bore a long crest slicked back from a sharp, grey beak, and tail feathers that trailed in graceful, shiny waves.

"Egads..." Frog uttered. "Such a wondrous creature."

"Hah! Great bird! Pretty, too! So strong, suits Marle well!" Ayla approved.

Marle twirled on her taloned feet, flapping her large wings and making crooning sounds that passed for excitement. She started off the ground once and then twice, but worked her wings too clumsily to achieve flight. Ayla laughed heartily at her progress. "Haha, flying too hard? Need practice! Ayla should take to dactyl nest, show how fly there. Mother push baby dactyls right off cliff! Hahaha."

I spied the gemstone hanging off the bird's neck by a familiar gold chain. "Hey, is that her pendant?" I hadn't even noticed Marle wearing it before, but it must have been hidden beneath her parka.

"That's weird..." Mishu commented. "What's that thing made of? It should've transformed with her."

"'Tis Dreamstone, a very peculiar mineral. Its magical properties are extraordinary," Frog disclosed.

"Yeah, it doesn't surprise me that it's still intact, considering what that pendant's gone through before," I noted.

Crono shook off his amazement and scooped Marle off the ground, letting her balance on his outstretched arm with an enraptured expression. _This is the coolest thing ever._ Marle agreed with a soft, preening screech.

Mishu fixed her conniving grin on Crono, next. "Your turn."

Any reluctance was discarded at Marle's encouraging nod, although Crono trained a sharp, wary eye on Mishu while consenting to the spell. Marle took a fluttering leap to the ground and kept her distance while the incantation took effect. This time the light was like a shred of sunrise, fiery citrine, and the shape Crono took was even smaller than Marle's.

I squinted at the bird formed at our feet. "I think it's... a kestrel?" It looked just like the ones indigenous to Guardia Forest, only with tawny yellow feathers and a distinctive crown of three feathery spikes.

"A falcon of sorts, to be sure," Frog said.

"Another bird? Look strong too, but so little!" Ayla bent down and poked him, and Crono squeaked, his feathers swelling around his neck like a disgruntled lion's mane. Marle's bird danced around him, chirping inquisitively. She was over twice his size-it did look pretty funny. I had to laugh. "Haha, I think he's embarrassed!"

Crono squawked and hopped away, apparently not amused. After three starts he actually caught the drift of flight, glided into the exposed rafters and darted from perch to perch like a spark of lightning. He then tested such a spell on a steel beam, reveling in the crackling report and generally making a boisterous racket. I couldn't tell if he was having fun or throwing a tantrum.

"H-Hey, settle down up there!" I shouted up. Marle spread her wings and braced against the ground as if to try to fly again, but suddenly she burst into icy flame and shape-shifted back to normal, catching herself on hands and knees.

"Whoa! Whoops..."

I knelt beside her and checked to see if she was okay. "What happened?"

Marle sat back and laughed sheepishly. "Oops, I didn't mean to do that! It's kind of hard to stay like that, you know? But it was fun!" Bright, eager eyes lighted on me. "Lucca, you need to try next!"

"Absolutely. Step right up," Mishu said in accord.

"Uh..." I hesitated. I wasn't comfortable letting Mishu do any more witchcraft on me-I was surprised Marle even talked Crono into it (then again, Marle talks Crono into all kinds of crazy things, like jumping into random, unknown portals through time.) Besides, I almost agreed with Magus; it all seemed rather... impractical? What was I going to turn into, a dog or something? "I think I'll take a rain check..."

Marle playfully shoved me. "Don't be silly! It's really great, like Ayla said. It's such a rush-you'll feel so energized! And you can just change back if you don't like it."

"Okay, okay..." I caved in, stepped up to Mishu and held my breath.

"Heh. Ready? Listen carefully..." Her hands felt cold to the touch-and then blistering hot, in a matter of a few words.

_"Tae'lo espirie encantu bae'ra sec l'on. Gi'ira r'pon."_

The whole world warped. Sound, light, gravity-everything safe and sure around me was flipped upside down and distorted. I could have compared it to gate jumping, but it was more like getting dunked head-first in warm water and having all your senses washed out. I would have been convinced I blacked out, if only I didn't see so much red-red deeper than fire, like the bloodlust red of Magus's cloak.

When the shock passed and the room's normal ambiance filled my ears, everything was completely new. I felt light, and... short. My legs and feet looked like twigs, and my arms felt heavy and cumbersome. When I tried to stand up, it was like remotely operating a machine, blindfolded. Movement was awkward and disjointed, with parts I didn't know I had bending in directions I didn't know they could. I wasn't scared, though-it wasn't like being possessed by Seth, where I had no control at all. It was just... weird.

I attempted to look at my own hand, only to be met with a mitt full of primary feathers. They looked kind of neat-crimson-hued with gold bars across the middle. Wait, feathers? I was a...

"Another bird!" I heard Ayla crow, high over my head. "This one... not look strong. Bigger than Crono, though."

"Good grief..." Frog sounded... surprised? Disturbed? Exasperated? I wonder why?

"Ohhh, it's a pretty crane!" Marle said. I'm a crane? That's... great, I guess. What was up with all the birds, really? Marle sat on the ground and patted her lap, calling me over. "Com'ere, you look so soft! I wanna pet you."

Hey, I'm not a housecat or something! I watched Crono drop out of the rafters and hit the floor in a tumbling heap-I guess if Marle needed to work on take-offs, Crono needed to practice his landings. He righted himself in a flurry and then transformed back, sitting on his hands and wearing a dopey grin. Marle and Ayla laughed all the more while Crono scratched his head, giving up on recovering his dignity and laughing right with them.

I joined the gigglefest, though the laugh that bubbled out of my throat wasn't anything I expected. It was a warbling trill that threw Marle into stitches. "Oh my gosh, she sounds just like a pigeon! Ehehehe!"

"Hah, pigeons funny too! Ayla like."

"We're going to call you Pigeon from now on," Marle declared with a devious wink. Wonderful, I'd just subscribed to the Marle Name Simplification Scheme. Crono flashed a thumbs-up and I knew it was doomed to stick. I started to object, but all that came out was more of that damned noise.

Mishu tilted a questioning look across the room, at the warlock. "Care to give it a try?"

"No thanks," Magus shot her down. "You can keep your weak parlor tricks to yourself."

"Oh, you're such a spoilsport!" Marle griped, though she didn't waste any more breath badgering him. Even Marle knew a lost cause when she met one. "What about you, Frog?"

The knight recoiled a step and drew a straight breath. "Ehhh... Pardon if I am leery of such craft, as well."

Saw that reply coming. Poor Frog... I could completely understand why he wouldn't want anything to do with it, although the possibilities were too intriguing for Marle to hold her tact. "Oh com'on, it won't be bad! I really think you should give it a shot. Pretty please?"

Ayla wasn't helping. "Frog try! Ayla bet have strong beast, even more strong than frog!"

I wanted to pitch in with, 'Com'on guys, let's not twist his arm,' but I almost forgot that birds can't talk. Mishu shrugged again. "It's up to you, Froggit."

The corners of Frog's mouth quivered irresolutely, but then crinkled warmly in his best impression of a smile. "I cannot decline you fine ladies' request..."

Marle clapped and cheered, and Mishu took her place before Frog. His sword was strangely silent, even once the chant began. The warping flame was green this time, although the pink sparks that shot out and zapped Mishu's hands were worrisome, especially when she jumped back and cursed. "Oh shit!"

_Oh shit._ Spellcasters weren't supposed to say 'oh shit.' What was happening to Frog? Was the Masamune interfering with the spell, or...?

The emerald pyre receded just as well as the other times, revealing another four-legged beast swathed in fur-green and shaggy grey. Large, conical ears; long snout; bushy tail; skinny legs; big paws-a canine. The naked Masamune clattered to the ground beside him, completely inert.

Marle stared in baffled admiration. "Whoa... So what's that, like a wolf?"

"Not so big..." Ayla weighed in. "More like pack dog. Big ears, howl at moon, see?"

Did she mean a jackal? Because that's what I was thinking-not that we could make an affirmative match to any real species, but it was fun to guess. Frog (Dog?) shuffled unsteadily towards us, anxious hazel eyes blinking widely. Marle immediately ran up to him and combed a hand through his verdant pelt. "So cool! See, Frog? It's not so bad, right?"

Crono nodded at him. _Definitely cool._

"Are we done wasting time?" Magus snipped from the sidelines. "We need to get back on track."

Marle spun around with a retort that didn't make it past three syllables once a loud, ominous crack jarred the room. Frog reared up and howled such an abject chord that we all staggered back in fright, and then a band of red lightning surged through the creature, binding him in an excruciating vice. It started to appear as if he were reverting back to his usual form, but the writhing, wailing shape that rose out of the green flames was _not_ Frog.

"Frog!" Marle screamed, even though we were all helpless to watch. Ayla's rescue was warded off with such a ferocious whiplash of energy that she was kicked across the floor and into the wall.

Then there was an electric pop-an explosion that rendered the whole room blind and deaf. I fluttered uselessly for my bearings, and it took several seconds for everything to settle into a disquieting calm. I found myself facing Marle and Crono, who were staring ahead with their jaws on the floor, shell-shocked. Magus was behind them, a harrowed shadow drawn across his brow that made the most aghast expression I had ever seen on the remorseless wizard. I turned around slowly to see what they were looking at, and...

Frog was gone. There was someone else there, bent and shaking on his knees, bowed towards the ground, wearing Frog's cape and bronze armor-a perfect imposter. He achingly lifted his head, looking at the first thing in his line of sight-which was me-and I saw the clean, pale, awestruck face of a man who had just been blindsided by fate. His clear, guileless eyes were partially veiled by long locks of green hair that couldn't conform to a proper style, curling and sticking in every haphazard direction.

At great length he opened his mouth, words sliding past his lips that were as young and witless as they were rich and masculine. He didn't know what to say. None of us did.

"I... I'm... human."

* * *

A/N: Had to be done.

Gi'ira sec l'On (talent of the beast): _ghee-ear-ah-sek-la-oan._

It occurs to me that this fic is already my second-longest (80,000+ words and counting as of this chapter.) It'll probably pass up my longest one (Prince of Thieves) before it's done-there are seven more chapters to go, give-or-take. Fun stuff.

Next time: facing up to one's humanity, and bedtime stories. Thanks for watching!


	19. A Night in Andante

**19. A Night in Andante**

Nobody moved for a long time. Sometimes things happen that are so astonishing that an entire room full of people can be shocked silent, and the one and only thing that can break the ice is for someone to state the absolute obvious.

That someone was Marle. "Oh my gosh, you... You're human again!"

That green-haired man--Frog--_Frog?!_--was trembling. "Ah, a-aye..." he said, making a guttural noise that was more of a retch than a croak. He tried to hoist himself up on uncertain legs, and Marle rushed forward to clasp his arm, holding him steady.

Wow, he was... tall. Not as tall as Magus, but a close race. His pants didn't fit quite right, cutting short at the knees and sagging around the belt, and his breastplate no longer concealed his midriff--I had almost never realized that Frog didn't wear shirts. He wasn't too muscular, but not too scrawny, either, and in a sort of unkempt, vagrant way, he looked... freakishly normal. Handsome, even. I totally didn't expect that.

"Thank you," he said with a breathless grin that couldn't seem to decide if he was bewildered or elated. He looked around the room, wide-eyed and glowing, and then started to bubble over with a laugh that Marle caught and passed to Crono like a bad flu.

Magus and Mishu were immune, of course. "What's so funny? What the hell just happened?" the latter wanted to know.

_"Wow! What a trip, eh?"_ the sword on the ground spoke.  
_"I'll tell you what happened,"_ Mune volunteered. _"The neiphiti did something _useful_, for a change."_

"What was that??" Mishu blared. The Masamune emitted a peculiar, metallic 'tsk' as Frog stooped to pick it up.

_"Cool it, dragon bitch. Allow us to explain!"  
__"That spell she taught exorcises your _Gi'ira,_ a part of your soul that's bound to your most primal nature."  
__"Think of it as bringing out your animal instinct, word."  
__"When you use the beast talent, it's like turning your soul inside-out! And when you turn back..."  
__"You shake all the dirt off--say, things like _beast curses_. Therapy for your soul, man."  
__"Congrats, Master. You're a clean sock! Er... or something."  
__"Lousy metaphor, bro."  
__"Yeah, heh heh..."_

Of course, I had read about such things in the _T'torlan_ the night before. I just hadn't made the connection from 'spirit guide' to 'spirit mage,' and 'beast curse' to 'beast talent.' It made a warped sort of sense, now.

"It's amazing!" Marle exclaimed. "I'm just surprised that Frog didn't turn into, um..." A hand flew to her mouth, as if a faux pas could be covered up like a cough.

Frog smirked, finishing her thought. "A smaller frog? Aye, that would've been hysterical." He could have sounded scornful, but his tone was light and joyful. He was joking. Who wouldn't have been happy in his shoes? He'd been living with that curse for over ten years, and now it was finally broken. Magus could have strolled across the room and punched him in the nose and Frog wouldn't have given a damn, at that point. I glanced at the wizard, almost expecting a reaction like that, but he decided to lean against the wall and scowl. Good for him; let him sulk.

Crono sidled up to Frog, gave him a jovial pat on the back and started to look him over--trying to measure up, I realized. Crono was always a tad on a short side, and it was apparent that being out-scaled by one more member of our team vexed him. "You can't count your hair, silly!" Marle chastised him, giggling all the while. Crono crossed his arms and pouted while Frog laughed--he had such a smooth, clear voice. _Really_ handsome. Damnit Frog, why didn't you ever tell us you were handsome??

We heard a shuffling groan from the corner and found Ayla coming to her senses. "Aoouu... Ayla head hurt."

Oops, forgot all about her--that was jerk-ish of us. Marle skipped to her side with a contrite, "Oh, we're so sorry, Ayla! Hang on..."

Marle finished her healing rounds, cleaning up after Ayla's ill-fated heroics and Seth's rampage, and we took a while to regain our bearings in light of all the incredible, terrible and wonderful things that had just happened. Frog kept pacing around the room, marveling at every little footstep, and it was obvious that we would need to give him time to acclimate to his changed form. Marle didn't ask so much as insist that this was going to happen, and Magus slinked away, going to brood over "wasting time" in private.

We set up camp much the same way we did in that cave on Death Peak--that is, we pulled out a few towels and sat on the ground while eating cheese and jerky. The harsh green lighting, cold tiles and steel rafters didn't make a very pleasant ambience, but at least it was easy to catch anyone coming or going, so we wouldn't be ambushed by robots or Mystics. If there was another rapier like Seth, though...

"Heh, I still can't believe it," Frog remarked around a bite of jerky. "Even food tastes different."

Crono tipped his hands like scales, enquiring, _Worse or better?_

"We're so happy for you," Marle said, lending Frog a genuine smile. "Hey, what do you want us to call you, now?"

Frog seemed thrown by the question. "Huh?"

"Not frog now, right? Need new name! Call man 'Frog,' no make sense," Ayla reasoned.

"Oh, well..." He blinked, considering it. I knew what Marle was asking; she was wondering if he was going to reclaim his old name, Glenn. I just wondered if he was ready to commit to it, and all the old memories--and old burdens--it carried. "Ah... You can still call me Frog, if you don't mind. It's all a little much right now..." he answered diffidently.

I bet it was... How was he going to adjust to being human again? Would he go back to his old life like nothing happened? Would he still strive to be a knight for Guardia? It's not like he was suddenly an entirely different person, so why not? What were Leene and the king going to think? They'd be happy for him too, I supposed...

Marle had the audacity (and the voice box) to ask all the questions I couldn't. "So what're you doing to do when you get home? Hee, Leene's going to freak out, I bet! Are you excited?"

"Er..." All the color went straight to his face. I wagered Frog didn't have much control over human facial expressions yet. "It is a thrilling prospect, to be sure. I just..." He looked at the ground, suddenly reticent. "It's never so easy..."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

Marle is a great friend to hang out with, but she has a bad habit of being nosy--and this occasionally leads to questions that really hit where it hurts. I've never snapped at her for asking something she shouldn't, though. Sometimes, actually, I admire how openly she can talk about anything.

For example...

One day we were sitting around my house--just the two of us, I forget what Crono ran off to do--and Marle suddenly spoke up over the radio to ask what the word 'unrequited' meant. She swore she used to know, but it slipped her mind. I was too wrapped up in some electrical components to pay attention to whatever sappy lyrics were playing on the radio, much less play dictionary, so I suggested she look the word up herself.

Don't ask me how, but this indirectly led to an anecdote about Marle's first crush, some boy she met incidentally around the castle, whose name escapes me--I think it began with 'R'? The story went on for a while about how they met in the forest while running away from their respective obligations, and then proceeded to have silly adventures that revolved around teasing and eluding the castle guards. Just when she was beginning to realize that her feelings for the guy were a little more than admiration, Marle (or just Nadia back then) learned that he was only staying in the area for the summer, and that they might never see each other again. She was heartbroken over this, and vowed to tell him exactly how she felt before he left for good.

Marle is a pretty good storyteller, I have to admit. I had to drop my screwdriver to hear out the dramatic ending, where she's summoned to say farewell to her visiting aunt and uncle and finds out that--guess what--that boy is their son. Which made him her cousin. Well, second-cousin, actually, but that's still pretty bad--in a 'hilarious in retrospect' kind of way. We joked that if she weren't so busy running away from the castle all the time, she might have learned more about the people she was supposed to be related to.

Once we were finished rolling with laughter, Marle looked up and asked me if I'd ever had an unrequited crush on someone--just, out of the blue, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Right away I said no, jesting that a true scientist doesn't have time for such trifles. Truth be told (a truth I was a little too proud to share at the time), being a grease monkey island hermit bookworm doesn't exactly turn up a lot of boyfriends--or much of anyone, besides the usual entourage of spectators, hecklers and policemen (my experiments do NOT explode often enough to warrant municipal restraint, thanks jerks. Although it was nice to have the fire department on standby.)

Anyway, so I'm not a catch. Which is fine by me! I'm just too smart and brilliant for all those monkeys in Truce. Besides, I have the best friends in history. Who needs a boyfriend?

Instead of telling her any of that, however, Marle used her super princess interrogation powers (tickling is SO cheating, by the way, and I pray for the future of our country that she never resorts to this practice once she becomes queen) to badger a story out of me--a story that didn't really answer her question but kind of... sort of did. It was more of that "girl talk" Marle likes so much, I suppose. I swear, that expression "a lady never kisses and tells" is like a jinx, because the person who says that _always_ tells, usually within thirty seconds of being asked.

For a practical joke, I'm surprised I remember it so vividly. I guess that's what people say about first times.

It was spring, and I had taken advantage of the good weather to conduct some experiments in the square. I was testing an engine for one of my prototype robots, to be precise, and... it didn't go well. It backfired horribly--and literally--nearly killing myself as well as a bystander that strayed too close. My profuse apologies didn't mean much to the town patrolman who had wandered up to a scene filled with smoke and traumatized children--and those were the ones that hadn't fled in terror. The officer took my name, realized I was the blacksmith's daughter (my dad's reputation covered me a long way, thankfully) and sent me home with a disgusted word of warning. I loaded up my cart and hauled the wreckage back across town while people leaned out their windows and storefronts and jeered. ('Heh! There goes that crazy Ashtear girl, blown something up again.')

By the time I got home, I was dragged down, depressed and stinking of defeat (for the record, defeat smells like sweat, ether and burnt hair.) To my surprise, Crono was there, taking a nap under our favorite tree. He'd apparently gone to my house looking for me, and then got bored and fell asleep. He woke up when he heard my cart clattering through the grass, and I just dropped the thing, threw down my helmet, plodded over to the tree and sat next to him in an exhausted huff.

"Gawd, just kill me."

Crono passed a look from me to the charred remains of my prototype, and I watched one of his eyebrows disappear under his headband as the corner of his mouth started in a smirk. I preemptively cut off his laughter. "Don't even dare. I've been humiliated enough for today."

He bit his lip, holding back, and I threw up my arms, exasperated. "What is wrong with me??"

Crono turned a considering look skyward.

I punched his arm. "Don't answer that." He then sat quietly for a gracious minute before I started rambling, saying every lame, self-abasing thing that came to mind.

"I'm such a freak. My job description is 'eccentric inventor' on a nice day, the only people who will hang out with me are you, my parents and my hamster, things I come in contact with explode on a regular basis, I don't know how to carry a conversation that doesn't pertain to mechanics, thermodynamics, derivative math or history, and yet I still know how to publicly embarrass myself in the most extravagant way possible. Doesn't even help that I'm fifteen and still look like a prepubescent _boy_--no boobs at all. It's no wonder I'll never get kissed by a guy. And I just admitted that in front of you without any sense of restraint at all! I'm sure you feel awkward now--at least one of us should, since I have no chance at becoming a socially functional human being. It's amazing you even put up with me. Maybe it's trainwreck syndrome. I'm just a spectacle, huh?"

I sat back and waited for his grimace. Repulsion was something Crono could get across pretty damn well, but for some reason that wasn't his reaction. His silence was suddenly strange, and not in the distant way like when he's daydreaming, nor distracted like when he's thinking hard (say, over whether to have rice balls or sandwiches for lunch.) When he sat upright I could feel some weighty kind of static rising with him--that tingling wisp of an _idea_ that was best caught before it flitted away, and in one rolling motion he leaned across my lap and took my glasses.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" I objected.

"Relax," he said in his quiet, heady baritone, like a doctor about to stick my arm with a needle, and my skin crawled warmly. You'd think a voice so rarely used would get rusty or faded, but Crono's never did. It only got deeper and smoother over time, like fine wine, and sometimes I wondered if he was bottling it up and saving it for the right moment. Even if his ideas were rarely the best, Crono always knew how to seize a moment.

"Wha-" I said dumbly, and then he kissed me. My mind went sublimely blank, so much that I barely noticed his breath on my cheek or the firm hand planting my wrist to the ground. I couldn't even see straight without my glasses, but when he finally pulled away I couldn't mistake that mixed glimmer of awe and mirth in his eyes--and perhaps a bit of satisfied curiosity.

Then he grinned--that same lopsided, perversely proud grin that always followed his best pranks, and all my senses came rushing back--outrage first. I drew a deep breath, shoved him as hard as I could and clambered to my feet. "What's the matter with you?? You don't just spring that on people, you big crazy dummy!" I then turned about, muttered, "Crazy," and stormed off, leaving him (and my glasses. I didn't dare go back for them.) The last thing I heard before reaching my house was Crono's laughter. He thought he was a riot.

Of course, the version of this story I fed to Marle had a few key embellishments (and omissions) to make it funnier (and slightly more violent.) And I never told her the ending. She thought it was funny enough as it was, bless her heart. As it happened, the minute I barged into my house, blushing so hard it hurt, my mother looked up from a book and remarked, "Oh, that looks cute on you. Did you find it outside?"

"Did I...?" I brushed my ear and found it--a daisy stuck in my hair. I was so flabbergasted I blurted out right in front of my mom, "That slick bastard!"

Crono drives me crazy, sometimes.

...I know what 'unrequited' means.

Frog never did answer Marle's question--directly, anyway. He offered a few responses that were so vague and noncommittal that Marle eventually took a hint and quit asking. Next I knew, Crono was offering me a morsel of cheese with a look that asked why I didn't follow Frog's lead and eat supper like a human being. "Do birds eat cheese?" Marle asked over his shoulder.

That was a good question--what _did_ cranes eat? Fish? Bugs? Yuck. I didn't have much of an appetite, but I accepted the piece of cheese to quell that prying look from Crono and Marle. It didn't taste like much of anything, and I only hoped my beast form wasn't lactose-intolerant.

Since we were underground, nobody could tell what time it was, but the consensus was that it was time to get some rest before we moved on. Everyone spread out over the floor on makeshift pillows--purses, parkas, spare limbs, whatever we had--and tried their best to get some sleep. It wasn't safe to wander off, so I climbed into the rafters to get away from anyone asking why I wouldn't turn back to normal.

I wasn't very good at flying, either, but I figured I needed more open space, somewhere with a running start. It was all aerodynamics and lift, right? Mind over matter--air, in this case. You know, I'd say it figures that everyone else gets these sleek, powerful, predatory inner animals and I'm stuck with some lanky, mange-feathered longneck that looks about as intimidating as a house fly and sounds like a damn pigeon. That is exactly my luck. Maybe it's my punishment for being a pessimist. Maybe I should look on the bright side; some cultures consider cranes a sign of good fortune. Not that I believe in that stuff.

I wondered what Magus's beast form was like--probably something pint-sized and petulant, like a cat. Or a goat. Heh, Magus the Goatlord.

At any rate, I was able to make a few fluttering jumps off the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and reach a shelf of iron lattice grates that could support me easily. It wasn't hard to keep my bird form; I don't know what Marle was talking about. I almost preferred it, even if the reasons were pathetic. The beast talent really was invigorating, and I had more energy and a clearer mind as a bird than I had as a human all week. Even my _mahna pool_ felt replenished. My leg also quit hurting, which was a big bonus. Plus, with a layered coat of sturdy and downy feathers, I could settle down and get comfortable wherever I wanted. Falling asleep was a breeze.

Dreaming, however...

The End of Time must be some neutral ground for my weird subconscious visions, because there I was again, alone--me, the lamppost and this talking snake with sharp red eyes.

_"I remember you,"_ I addressed it, rather witlessly. Did I really know this serpent or was I just saying that? Did anything in my dream have to make sense, even the words out of my own mouth?

_"Good,"_ it rasped. _"You'll remember us at the end of your days, when all falls to Darkness."_

'Us' again. Hello, black voices. _"Darkness, huh? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"_

The snake quirked its head and said drolly, _"Your soul."_

Was that supposed to be funny? _"Huh. I don't remember striking any deals with the Devil."_

_"Oh believe us, it's strictly business, nothing personal."_

_"If it's nothing personal, then why does it have to be my soul? Why me?"_

_"We just told you, it's not personal. We could have picked your friend, instead. Would you rather we have picked your friend?"_

_"Which fri--"_ I realized what I was asking and shook off the notion furiously. _"No! I, just--why do you have to do this at all?"_

_"We can't tell you. Some knowledge is dangerous. You should know that. The red gate opened for you, after all. Don't you wonder why it never did for the others?"_

_"No, I..."_ No, that was a lie. I wondered about that. I wondered a lot. I wondered why the laws of time and space--which were already bending over backwards to give us the gates in the first place--went so far out of the way to grant one individual wish that, while definitely appreciated, did absolutely nothing in the long run, historically speaking. It didn't help our quest and it had nothing to do with Lavos. It was only incidentally funny because that night Robo had postulated the existence of an unidentified 'Entity' that could be responsible for the gates. I refused to contemplate it much because honestly, the existence of an omniscient being with the power to shape our futures--a God, if you will--terrified me more than Lavos. Terrified me more than anything. Because if we can't control our own destinies--much less our planet's--then what is the point?

At any rate, the red gate never made sense, and I never really talked about it, under some irrational fear that a miracle might be as fugacious as a conversation about faith--that perhaps some 'Entity' would be listening and decide to retract it all on the same whim that spawned that gate in the first place. I just didn't get it. If there was someone watching us with that kind of power at their disposal, why not use it for something truly significant, such as saving Cyrus? Or Crono? We had to pull off the latter the hard way, and Frog still goes back to visit a gravestone. How is that fair? Why save just my family? Why fix that one thing?

_"...I don't know. I don't know why that happened."_

The snake chuckled through motionless, forever-sneering lips. _"Heh. That's because you don't remember _anything_."_

_"Remember? What's there to remember?"_

_"Here's a better question: who wrote that book?"_

_"What book?"_

_"The book the shadow wizard found."_

_"Magus? You mean the T'torlan?"_

_"Yesss, who wrote it?"_

I was cornered into using that phrase again, the one I loathed the most. _"I don't know. I don't know that, either. Nobody does! Mishu said espers wrote it. How could I know? If what Mishu says is true, it came from another world entirely."_

_"Ah, it must be nice, to be mortal and ignorant."_

_"What did you call me??"_ I started getting defensive. Who did this imaginary snake think he was?

_"Remember who wrote the book and you'll know who made the red gate."_ At this point the other, cooler voice interjected, _"Brother, that's enough."_

_"Wait!"_ I tried to catch it, stop it--hold on to something that made sense. _"No it isn't! You haven't answered anything! What am I forgetting? Who wrote the T'torlan? Why are you asking me these things??"_

The snake turned, sliding away through the mist, and I was rooted to the spot, yelling after it.

_"Answer me!"_

Nothing, silence begetting nothing, slipping away into the dregs of time. And I couldn't move. I was useless.

_"...Damn you!!"_

I woke up choking on that curse. Down below, I could see everyone else sprawled on the ground and snoring peacefully--save Magus, who must have enjoyed making us wonder where he was, like an overgrown game of hide-and-seek. Just when I thought my nightmare had passed, another voice intruded on my muddled thoughts, this one brash and feminine. _'What's wrong, Pigeon? Can't sleep?'_

I gave a throttled, barely-muffled quack (I could _quack_? Was I a pigeon or a duck??) and flapped my wings, startled. _'What the hell??'_

"Heheh," someone sniggered nearby, and then I spotted Mishu, reclining on a steel girder that was almost level with me. When I heard her voice again, it was in the private channel of the mind. _'Relax, you dumb bird. It's just telepathy.'_

_'I thought you said you couldn't read my mind!'_

She fixed me with a wry smirk. _'Yeah? I didn't say anything about not talking to it.'_

_'Ah. Uh... Damn you,'_ I lamely countered. _'What is it you want?'_

She studied her claws, feigning nonchalance. _'Oh, nothing... Just thought you could use a friendly chat.'_

I turned my back. _'Go to hell. I still can't believe what you did to us.'_

_'Mad at me, then?'_

_'I'm not talking to you! I can't trust anything you say! It's all been lies so far!'_

She sounded more amused than affronted. _'Oh really? Like what?'_

...Another note to self: work on those groundless accusations. _'Well okay, you haven't _lied_, per say, but I feel distinctly back-stabbed. You were still deceiving us, you know, even after we caught you following us!'_ I folded my wings, miffed. '_...Also that boyfriend jab was totally uncalled for.'_

She chortled under her breath. _'What can I say? You walked right into it. I never told a lie--I said I love fucking with you people.'_

_'Yeah, well, take that act somewhere else. I'm not buying anymore.'_

_'What a shame. How about a bedtime story, then? Let's see, once upon a time...'_

I made a testy warble that almost passed for a growl. _'Mishu...'_

_'...there were six brave warriors. They lived in a time of war, and wanted more than anything to stop the conflict. The king of the dragons and the espers, Bahamut, answered their prayer, and granted the warriors the power of the beast, the _Gi'ira_.'_

...Okay, I was listening, even if it sounded just like the story I read in the preface to the T'torlan.

_'The warriors went on to defeat the evil warlords and bring peace to the world. Thanks to the _Gi'ira_, their descendants became the "children of the beast," the neiphiti race.'_

_'Your people,'_ I noticed.

She nodded. _'Meanwhile, the souls of the warriors themselves were taken into Bahamut's kingdom to live and serve him forever. There they were called Ellichronrisen, which means "they who don't know time." So they were born again and again to worlds all across the universe, fighting for peace and justice under the espers' name.'_

_'Reincarnation?'_

Mishu shrugged. _'The way the story goes, it's said that the last time the Ellichronrisen fight together will be on the day of Ragnarok, the end of the world. But it's supposed to take more than that to stop the Lord of Darkness from taking over. That's where the Phoenix comes in.'_

_'The Phoenix, huh?'_ I didn't forget that was what Mishu said she was looking for.

_'The Phoenix is the great esper of rebirth. It's supposed to be a giant bird of flame that incinerates its enemies and uses cleansing fire to bring the lost back to life. It's also supposed to be the espers' greatest weapon against the Darkness.'_

_'So where is this Phoenix?'_

_'That's the tricky part. When Ragnarok nears, it's supposed to be hidden from the Darkness to keep its powers safe. What the old book says is that three keys will unlock its hiding place.'_

_'Actual keys? Like, for a door or a treasure chest?'_

"Heh." _'Who knows? The keys have names, so it could just as well be people, or beasts. The _Traukee_, the _Mii Sci Kee_ and the _Tarow Kee_... If I can find them... Well. Who knows. At least it's a wild goose chase that keeps me busy.'_

_'All this is in the T'torlan, isn't it? Huh...'_ I got the urge to try and research it; I just needed someone with hands to fetch that book. _'Could you get it out for me? It's in my... Uh, where _is_ my bag?'_

_'Were you wearing it when you transformed?'_

_'Yeah...'_

_'It'll come back, then,'_ she said blithely.

_'What? No, that makes _no_ sense. My clothes and stuff still have to _exist_ somewhere, so where are they?'_

She lifted a lazy, critical eyebrow at me. _'You always sweat the small shit, don't you?'_

_'Huh? No, I'm just... detail-oriented. I'm a scientist; it's my duty to question these things.'_

Mishu yawned and shifted on her perch. _'Whatever. I'm not a scientist, so I don't have to worry about dick. If it doesn't have to do with the Darkness, I'm not interested.'_

The Darkness... Once more, I had to ask. _'Listen, about the blight and everything... You didn't mean all that stuff back there, did you? You only said that to make a diversion, right?'_

She looked straight at me, wondering and weighing her words against the backdrop of buzzing green shadows. She then turned away, showing a mask of conscience. _'...I'm sorry. Good night, kid.'_

That wasn't the answer I needed. At all. Mishu soundlessly jumped to the ground and joined the others at rest. I refused to contemplate the blight any more, but there had to be an alternative to sleep. I looked for it, and saw a shape moving across the open hall. Someone else was up? I headed down, silent wings buffering my descent, and stalked towards the lone figure.

To my relief, it was Frog. He was pacing again, restless. He spied my approach and sat on the ground, accommodating my height. "Hey there," he said softly, mindful not to wake the others. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

I gave a grumbling confirmation and settled next to him. The disparity between the Frog I got to know and the person I was looking at was enough to make my eyes cross, and I was already having trouble focusing because I wasn't used to looking out the sides of my head (my peripheral vision was suddenly _fantastic_, though.)

Frog took off his glove and started to run his fingers through the ruff of feathers between my shoulders, openly fascinated by the texture. Really guys, _not_ a housecat. ...But it felt pretty nice, so I allowed it.

"Heh, amazing... Everything feels so different. Touch, sound, sight... It's like I'm dreaming. I'm almost afraid to go to sleep, and then wake up and be changed back, as if it's all for naught." Oh, poor Frog. It's amazing how the rest of us take being human for granted.

"I think I understand why you won't change back. I've been there, myself. There were times where... Well, not often, but times where I preferred my frog's guise, just so I wouldn't have to face up to my humanity. Humans aren't always the just, virtuous beings we make ourselves out to be."

...Uh-huh. I couldn't say anything to that. I couldn't say anything if I tried, and I was beginning to relish that. Perhaps Frog's words were ringing true.

"I, um..." And here he faltered, hand pausing mid-stroke to nervously scratch his chin. "I'm worried about meeting Leene again."

I had been getting that impression, and I looked at him expectantly, hoping to get a 'why' where Marle only got rebuffed.

With the hushed reluctance of a man in a confessional, he began, "There's been some dissension in the royal house of late. The king and queen have been married for over ten years and not produced an heir, you know. People have been saying things, ugly rumors... And to my great misfortune, I learned one of them was true."

Uh-oh, court intrigue. I listened with piqued interest (and feathers.)

"It's just that... Well, His Majesty has... differing tastes, you could say. In the bedroom. The queen confided this in me one night. It's a terrible situation, but there's naught I could do. That's what I told her. But then, she... Ahm, Leene was... She proposed something outrageous."

Frog swallowed dryly and looked around the floor, evading a point that must have shaken him to the core. I had never seen anything rattle Frog like that, so you can bet I was anxious to hear the story out. "Dear God, I could have accepted her advance, but what shame it would have brought to the king--or even to her! She's the queen, and I love my liege, but I was just a... I was a, ah, you know. It was impossible, even if I... rather fancied it."

_Holy bloody cow_. I couldn't believe Frog was spilling this to me, of all people. Have you ever heard of 'sock puppet therapy'? A school counselor once attempted to subject me to it ('attempted' is the key word, there.) Long story short: I felt like the sock puppet.

He closed his eyes and sighed, wistful and mournful at once. "I'll never forget her words, though: 'If only everyone else saw the man in you that I see.' She was always too kind... It broke my heart to leave again. But you know why I couldn't stay, right? The dishonor?"

I would've been a total jerk not to respond somehow, but my vocabulary was limited to tunes from domestic fowl you meet at the park. Oh Frog, you were always twice the man those stupid blowhards at the castle were. I gave the most solemn nod I could muster and hoped he understood.

Frog returned a watery smile, wiped his eyes and sniffed, on the brink of a less-than-manly outburst. "Sorry. You don't need to hear about my problems. I just don't know how I can present myself before Her Majesty again. She must feel rejected by my abrupt leave."

Talk about awkward. No wonder he wouldn't bring it up in front of Marle--it was a matter of her direct ancestry, after all. I offered a cooing noise of sympathy and he gave me a ginger pat on the head, saying in a relaxed tone, "Alas, it will be my bridge to cross alone. I'm sure the resolution shall present itself in due time. Thanks for listening to me."

Yeah, no... problem? I really had to wonder if he would have been so open with me if I were still human. No point in wondering, I guess. I got a sudden pat on the behind, nudging me to my feet (now I felt more like livestock than a housecat.) "Go on, try to get some sleep. I'll keep the watch."

I wanted to insist that he didn't have to--that _he_ was the one who really needed rest, but as it was I cursed my loss for words and waddled back up to the rafters. I could've changed back at any time, perhaps, but then I really couldn't--and it wasn't because I secretly liked being a damn bird, or that it was really easy to reach high places, or that the beast talent was beneficial in ways that compensated for my human flaws (even though a little bit of all of these were true.)

The real reason was... I just couldn't. Frog was right. Even though Marle was all smiles and hugs, saying it was all right, I couldn't face what I had just done. Even though it wasn't technically my fault, I couldn't believe what I had almost seriously done to my friends, the people who trust me--the people I care about most. They were the only people I really had left in the world, especially since my parents... they were...

...oh, no, no no no no NO.

I snapped; I finally realized what I was doing. I had been reacting the same way I did to Crono's death, turning over my grief and frustration to the cool, logical part of my brain that likes to keep up appearances. I was saying things I didn't mean for the benefit of the group ('It's okay,' 'I'm sure everything will be all right,' and so on) just so it wouldn't look like I was as affected as the rest of them. I wanted to be calm and rational, no matter what--but for Crono, for the others, or for me? And what good was it, now?

I remember finally breaking down and throwing a fit only _after_ Crono came back, making a total, blubbering fool of myself. While everyone else was having their more-or-less dignified reunion, I rushed the son-of-a-bitch and tackled him so hard we both hit the turf. Marle had a mild heart attack.

(Frog just smiled and offered us both a hand up out of the snow. We were all grinning, crying and acting like idiots, so it was okay.)

I wanted to say I was sorry--for lying to Crono's mom, for lying to everybody, for acting like nothing happened. Sorry for acting like I didn't care. Of course I cared. Mom and Dad were my family, the only real life I had. They were the ones who supported me when even Crono thought I was a hopeless loon, and I did everything to be a part of Dad's work and help out Mom. I missed them like crazy--I always will.

So, I did care. I cared so much it hurt to think about it. I cared so much I was scared to cry.  
_Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I was trying so hard to be strong that I overlooked my own heart. Please forgive me.  
_And right then I wanted to do nothing more than cry and scream and beg for forgiveness, but I couldn't, because I was a dumb bird. Changing back only crossed my mind as an ineffable option. I finally wanted--needed--to act like a human being, and I didn't have the willpower.

There is a God, and he likes to laugh.

Ever watched a bird throw up? It's kind of like watching a cat cough up a hairball--not a pretty sight at all. _Really_ gross, actually. To make it better, all I could think as I hacked up a grief-soaked wad of cheese was that it was okay--nobody could see me cry. I lay in a shiverring, useless heap for what felt like hours, letting my sense of time fall apart while trying like crazy to get back to that happy, oblivious little place where I didn't care if I was alone. Did that place really exist, and did I ever wish it would be better?

There was a furtive scuffle below whose source I mistook for Frog, or maybe Mishu again--but then it couldn't be her, because whoever was trying to use that fire extinguisher to get a leg up the wall was not going about it very gracefully. I was completely surprised by the arm that hooked me and dragged me off my ledge, and I threw an inept fit.

"Shhh," my 'kidnapper' (birdnapper?) hissed, and I calmed down a bit once I caught the scent of dragons and tonic. Crono tucked me under his arm and hopped back to the ground, where I resumed my tantrum, kicking and warbling. _'Damnit you can't just lug me around like a sack of grain! Crono! Put me down, you big brute!'_

He took me into a corner and sat against the wall, holding me snugly all the while. What was he doing awake? What the hell did he want? Of course he wasn't going to _tell me_, which was all the more infuriating. Crono drives me crazy, I swear.

One hand pinned me to his chest while the other ran from crest to tail, smoothing my ruffled feathers. "Shh, shh..." he whispered again, soothing this time. After a minute I quit struggling--and after another minute, I no longer wanted to. I could feel that ethereal fire through feathers and skin and bone, stirring up goosebumps. I made a pigeon-purr in the bottom of my throat and embraced it, practically melting at the touch. A beast link, huh...? Whatever part of that bond compelled Crono to jump up and grab me, I wasn't going to deny it--not when his petting gave such rapture.

My heart felt weak and my stomach felt sick and my head felt light and _I was a stupid bird_ but it was okay because he was holding me to the ground, strong and warm and sensual. It was sad; it was all my fault. He was a fool, and I was useless.

"'s not your fault," he murmured, so soft and deep it could have been another dream, and there in his arms I finally found sleep.

...Crono could be a sweet fool, sometimes.

* * *

A/N: Props to my homies in #icybrian for... Well, they know what they did. Buggery in Medieval Guardia _indeed_.

Being a "diary," of course, means sometimes talking about girly stuff. Ew, girl talk. I know the pacing in this fic has been atrocious, but I promise this will be the last slow chapter. It's all moving towards some asskicking or another from here.

Thanks to everyone still reading! Next time: Lord Heckran's secret chariot.


	20. Lord of the Mystics

**20. Lord of the Mystics**

I woke up on the floor in an odd sandwich, trapped under Crono's arm and pressed against Marle's back. It was as if he meant to cuddle me like a stuffed toy and spoon his girlfriend at the same time, but I couldn't complain since it was pretty cozy, even without that beast link leaving me in a euphoric coma. It was just startling, since I had forgotten overnight about my new shape and had to scramble to remember why everyone else was suddenly so big. Once I realized that I was the small one, I settled down before I disturbed anybody's much-needed sleep. I let the cool fire of a beast's touch and the subtle, even sound of my companions' breathing lull me back into slumber (Crono wasn't snoring, for a change--or _drooling_, which he does despairingly often, especially when sleeping on my couch.)

I don't think my nap lasted twenty minutes before the dank, backlit, utilitarian dungeon we were camping in got a better idea. Everyone jumped at a distant, thunderous yawn--a drawling boom that shook the dust off the walls.

"What the devil was that?" Frog asked, nonplussed--and as if he were summoned by that oath, Magus stepped out of the adjacent hall and walked past our half-dozing group as if he had never left in the first place.

"It came from that way. Let's go, weaklings," was all he had to say for himself, and that was enough to get the rest of us grumbling to our feet. It was going to be another wonderful day, I could tell already.

We gathered our things and started after the warlock, heading down a corridor that followed the southern wall of the basement grid (I was pretty sure it was south. I've mentioned I'm pretty good at keeping oriented in such places.) Unfortunately, I realized that traveling in my present state was going to pose a problem: I couldn't walk very fast. Flying would have been a different story, but the halls were too cramped to afford it--and even if they weren't, I would've then had the opposite problem of moving too fast and passing everyone up (in the absence of wind, one has to maintain a certain velocity to simulate the proper flow of air to maintain lift, you understand.) The last thing I wanted to do was get separated from the group again, so the moment I started falling behind I flailed my wings and threw out petty little pigeon-warbles until someone took pity on me.

"Useless..." Magus growled sternly from the front of the line. He was losing his patience with us--with me in particular.

"Heh." Ayla bumped me with her foot, teasing, "Bird too slow! Must be hard on tiny legs. Too bad not human, huh?"

Okay, fine, I see what she was trying to do. I wouldn't be coaxed into changing back, though. I wasn't ready...

_When are you going to admit that you're a monster?_

At last Crono stopped, rolled his eyes and passed me a tired sigh--one that said _It's too early for this_, and _Why DON'T you change back?_ at the same time. Nonetheless, he knelt to the floor and offered his arm, and I climbed aboard, perching on his shoulder. I heard his low chuckle, despite himself--he must have thought it was cool because he looked like a pirate. I didn't mind; it beat hobbling around on my skinny bird legs, at any rate.

Marle got one look at us and tittered. "That's cute! You look like a pirate, Crono." ...Thanks, Marle.

Glenn was hanging at the back of the group--_Frog_, I mean, he's still Frog--but damn, it's hard to keep that name associated with him when he doesn't look anything like a frog anymore. I occasionally peeked around and found him swinging his sword in practice strokes, still trying to warm up to his new (old?) form--which was incredibly handsome, by the way. Have I not mentioned that? I don't want to sound like a fawning girl or something, but good grief, Frog is a total dish. ...Okay, I'll shut up about it.

"Mishu, do you know why?" I overheard Marle asking, and it took a second to realize that she was wondering after me.

The dragon lady glanced my way and sniffed, shrugging the matter off. "Hrmph. Even if I did, it's not my business to tell you."

That was strangely noble of her. I didn't want to feel like I owed that woman anything, but... _'Thanks.'_

_'Whatever,'_ I got her terse reply, and nobody asked any more prying questions.

We passed three more uneventful blocks before we discovered a well-lit room beyond an open door, its shaft of light cutting across the green pallor. The scene we met within was almost comically derelict, and everyone stopped short just inside the threshold.

The place might have been an office or a security booth, in another life. The sundry, fractured, lifeless screens of a smashed computer terminal consumed the back wall like a technological morgue. Naked phosphor bulbs glared at us from the ceiling, a few of them sputtering like angry bees where water dripped in through rotten tiles. It was leaking here, there and everywhere, feeding puddles on the floor and drumming on rusty file cabinets with so many dents that they looked more like big tin punching bags.

The room had been thoroughly trashed, and seated at the head of it all--upon a large oaken desk that bowed and splintered under the crushing girth--was a beast. It was made of heavy, compact muscle; tough blue scales; a thick, spike-laden tail; the snag-toothed, crooked muzzle of an alligator; and massive arms with enough strength to bench-press Jerad's truck with Ryan inside it. The claws at the tips of its broad, meaty feet and hands were a sinister length, and it was picking its teeth and reclining--heels propped on the desktop and everything--with an affectedly bored expression as we filed into the room.

"That's him..." Marle whispered, transfixed by the monster that I was just identifying as a heckran--_the_ heckran.

It interlaced its claws and snorted. "Heh. About time you showed up. I was getting bored." He had a gravelly voice that reeked of overconfidence.

"Are you Lord Heckran?" Frog asked first, his sword held at ease even as his shoulders tensed, never far off guard. The others rested hands on hips and weapons, ready for anything.

The heckran laid his arms flush on the countertop and regarded us with a shrewd, humored gleam to his large yellow eyes. "That's me. After a gang of low-life, nosy humans like yourselves killed my father three years ago, I took over our clan. Heh! But that was another place and time, right?" He narrowed a wolfish grin at Marle. "It's nice to see you again, Princess."

She gasped. "So that _was_ you in our armory!"

"Guilty as charged." Heckran then pulled his feet back and leaned forward, the desk creaking in protest as he lowered a threatening scowl at our lot. "And which one of you savages killed my nephew?"

"Savages??" Marle fired back. "You're the ones who broke into the castle, killed our guards and took the Rainbow Shell like a bunch of robbers!"

Magus uttered one flat note of amusement and then volunteered, "If you're talking about that pea-brained meatsack that jumped on us in the dark, I took care of him."

Heckran's gaze lit on him, eyes and nostrils flaring with a deep, throaty snarl. "You..." He then sobered, his brow twitching with recognition. "If you ain't the spittin' image of the Magus."

"In the flesh."

"Heh! Heh heh..." Heckran slumped back in his seat with a bemused cackle. "I'll be damned. The Fiendlord himself! Bet you took care of Seth too, huh? Not that I gave a damn about that whelp. Guy was a bastard. Wouldn't take orders. Didn't know the meaning of the word 'loyalty'." Here he bored Magus with a keen, censuring look, its undertones as palpable as the water dribbling onto our heads. "...Ain't that right, Magus?"

Magus began adjusting his gloves with a disdainful harrumph. "Sorry, I don't pledge allegiance to the weak."

Huh. I wonder if he realized he just indirectly complimented us?

Marle was less interested in banter between two ostensible leaders of the Mystics and more concerned with the point of our quest. "What are you up to with the gates? And the Rainbow Shell and Sun Stone?"

"And red rock!" Ayla reminded us.

Heckran beamed at her, large canines flashing maliciously in the artificial light. "What does it look like, Princess? You been enjoying all this rain? It's my favorite kind of weather."

"The rain...?" Frog took the hint. "You mean you're responsible for this incessant downpour?"

"Heh!" He seemed to relish our obliviousness. "While you humans have been taking your dear sweet time getting here, Ramezia's spell is almost ready. She's gonna help me wipe you stinkin' apes off the face of this planet for good."

Marle shook her head, eyes wide with painful disbelief. "Why? Why would you do that??"

Heckran talked in smooth, firm tones that gave me the impression that he was a great orator among his kind--even with the heavy country accent. It wasn't hard to imagine how he assumed control of a sizable force of Mystic rogues, at least. "Oh, I dunno... Humor me. What exactly do you plan to do when you finally find Ramezia? Or what about me? Are you going to kill me to avenge a bunch of guards, after you've already paid their lives back threefold with the troops of mine you've slaughtered?"

_No, I was going to kill you for the Sun Stone that your troops raided my house and murdered my parents to get._ I wasn't forgetting. I wouldn't dare forget. Crono must have heard the seething sound I made in my throat, since he tightened one hand around the Rainbow and the other around my leg, holding me down. I wasn't about to do anything stupid, I swear.

Marle didn't even blink before she answered, as bright and bold as ever, "We're going to stop you and save the world!" Crono nodded.

Heckran chuckled darkly. "Heh! Heh heh... Save the world. That's funny. That's what _we're_ trying to do."

"I beg your pardon?" Frog said, edging into a combative stance.

"You know, one thing I've noticed about this wonderful future of yours is that we Mystics aren't anywhere in it. Now I wonder why that is?" he mordantly pondered.

"Huh. So natural selection really does work." Wow, score another one for Magus.

Heckran fixed him with an icy glower. "Think you're smart, huh? Well, me and Ramezia don't have much in common, but we agree on one thing: you humans have been running the show long enough. And you've screwed it all up."

"Really? And what makes you think you'd be any better?" Mishu spoke up, even though she didn't particularly have a stake in this. She was neither human nor Mystic, we all knew.

That boulder of dragon muscle lumbered up onto the desk that cracked and trembled beneath him like a rickety soapbox. No fewer than three weapons were aimed at him in a heartbeat, yet Heckran merely laughed. "Heh! Let's let the planet be the judge, shall we? Whoever's the better swimmer makes it out alive."

Nobody even had a shot to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean. Heckran crouched and threw his arms behind him, about to pounce, and everyone drew back their feet and forward their blades. His attack wasn't what anybody expected, however. Instead of jumping out, he jumped _up_, powerful legs launching him like a big blue rocket and shattering the desk in his wake. Marle's crossbow landed a few bolts, but they barely stuck in his hide before he was up and gone, straight through the ceiling as if it were a sheet of paper. We heard the groaning and snapping of ironwork over our heads, and then all at once the roof collapsed with a surge of water, like a broken dam. The deluge was so swift that it slammed the door behind us and drove everyone to the walls, overwhelmed by the flood that filled the room to the brim in an instant.

All light was smothered by chunks of the ceiling that had crumbled to pieces and come crashing down, and all sound was reduced to a gurgling thrum. I panicked; I was sure I was going to drown. Birds can't hold their noses, you know. I thrashed blindly through the pitch, striving not to get crushed by debris, even though I could barely tell up from down in the chaos.

Then there was a spark of electric blue--a fluorescent halo coalescing before a demonic silhouette. I watched the black and sapphire tendrils spiral around Magus until he threw up one arm, pitching a spell that drove everything out and away in an explosive blast. The sky tore open with a geyser of magic, a foggy light filled my senses and I kicked madly for the surface. There I paddled like a lame duck, choking for air while inky water and chunks of concrete and rebar rained all around us.

By the time I got my bearings, Magus was already standing on the bank of the swimming pool Heckran graciously carved out for us, turning a scouring eye westward towards an invisible shore. Ayla sprang out of the water like an acrobat, landing deftly on all fours and then shaking herself off like an animal. Mishu burst free a second later with a sharp whistle of wind that was redolent of magic. Crono, Marle and Frog came up gasping and dazed, yet pulled themselves to solid ground without any trouble.

The best part, of course, was that we were all officially soaked to the bone--again. "Oh my God, what was that??" Marle had to ask. Thunder cracked high above while that portentous rain continued to fall, drowning out any refreshment the outdoors should have brought.

"A trap, methinks," Frog said bitterly as he checked himself for injuries and slid the Masamune back into its sheath. Crono followed suit with a frustrated _tsk_.

Mishu stamped and cursed, her gaze whirling around the surrounding lot of empty warehouses. "Where is that son of a bitch?!"

Ayla padded towards a distant pier, sticking her nose in some depressions in the gravel road. "Tracks! Heckran! This way!"

"Let's move it," Magus commanded, booking no argument. Everyone chased after Ayla except me. I floundered and squawked until Crono skidded to a stop, threw up his arms in an exasperated shrug, turned back and scooped me out of the water. "Damnit Lucca..." he grumbled under his breath as he raced to catch up. Yeah, I know, I'm useless, right? What else is new?

At length we encountered a choppy, swollen sea, its slate waves sluicing over the vacant docks. "This is a dead end..." Marle whimpered. As soon as Crono stopped running and quit jostling me around, I crawled onto his shoulder and peered around the rain-blurred horizon. Too far away to grasp, a jagged arc of light rent the stony clouds, and the sky and sea shuddered.

"Do you think he went... into the ocean?" Frog fathomed. Heckrans were water dragons, so it was a definite possibility.

"Where it all began..." Magus said gravely, looking out to sea with dread resolve. All this time he had been trying to get back to that place he found on the ocean floor, the one that shouldn't have ever existed. We had taken the long way about it, but fourteen thousand years later, we were back where he started.

"Look here!" Ayla called from a neighboring dock. "Ayla find... boat?"

We walked over and found what she was talking about. At first glance it looked like a capsized dinghy, only its rudder was more of a capsule with a hatch on top, bobbing over the water like a buoy. Crono leaned over the edge of the dock and inspected the teardrop-shaped, brine-encrusted hull sloping under the waves, and an inkling of the vessel's true nature began to occur to him. He passed Marle a hopeful, intrigued grin.

"Wow, could this be, like, a submarine?" she guessed.

Frog pedaled back a step, naturally wary. "Er... a what?"

"It's a boat that goes under water!" Marle explained, a lot less technically than I would've. Submarines weren't really of our time--Robo had mentioned them in conversation once, and it was just one of those tidbits about the future fascinating enough to remember.

Before anyone could dissuade him, Crono jumped the short way between the dock and the slippery deck of the vessel, grappling the rust-eaten rungs of the sail. It took him a while to steady himself (my frantic flapping as I dug my toes into his shirt for balance probably didn't help--note to self: find somebody else to hitch a ride on), and one of the footholds actually broke off in the process. He then knelt over the hatch, studied its brittle handle and gave it a forceful yank. The door yielded with a hollow, crackling twang that didn't inspire confidence, and a draught of stale air issued out of the dark hold.

"Ahh, Crono, do you think this is prudent...?" Frog tried to call him back, but it was no use, especially when Marle hopped on board after him.

You know, when we were ten or eleven years old and thought kites and such things that could defy gravity were really cool, I constructed a hot air balloon and invited Crono to ride in it. Don't ask me how we managed to crash the thing--we just did, and I learned an important lesson about using flameproof materials. Luckily we crashed in a body of water, albeit two hundred yards out to sea, and it was a heck of a paddle back to shore.

Once we shook the sand out of our shoes and caught our breath on the beach, Crono turned to me and immediately asked to do it again. That's always the kind of guy he was--delighting in adventure regardless of the outcome (or property damage, as was often the case in my experiments.) Sometimes I wondered if he _preferred_ it when things went off the chain or exploded, and merely befriended me to satisfy his appetite for disaster. If all other variables in our lives had been reversed, I believe Crono would've made an either astoundingly great or astoundingly terrible villain.

I never tried to build a submarine, but I had a feeling this one was going to go exactly like that. I made a purring noise of dissent as we stared down the hatch, and Marle echoed my sentiment. "Yeah, this doesn't look very safe..."

Crono shrugged off all sound advice and climbed inside, afraid of nothing. It was just more exploring, to him. We entered a cabin with deceptively spacious acoustics, although we couldn't see a thing. I got a light thump on the beak, and once my eyes adjusted to the dim environment, I noticed Crono making the sign for fire. _Got a light?_

Yeah, because it would've been a really good idea to start a fire in an air-tight compartment that reeked inauspiciously of lead paint and gas. I rapped him upside the head and hoped he got the message.

"This is kind of cool, if spooky..." I heard Marle shuffle in behind us and immediately start pressing anything that passed for a switch or button, which was pretty much her _modus operandi_ for any technology alien to her. "Hey, what's this do?" were her famous last words. We then heard a click followed by a low-key, buzzing pop, and I cringed for cover.

A circle of dull white lights smoldered to life overhead, illuminating the cabin in soft tones. At the front sat a bucket seat before a pilot's console, and beyond a wide glass lookout screen. Two padded benches lined the bulbous sides of the hull, barely long enough to accommodate six. There was a niche in the back that resembled a utility closet, with spliced wires hanging out an ajar breaker box, and past that a door hardly big enough for a dog to squeeze through, labeled 'ENGINE.'

"Oh wow, this is neat!" the princess marveled as she crawled up to the cockpit and tilted a craning look out the murky window.

"...awfully convenient, don't you think?" Frog was muttering as he descended the hatch to join us. Ayla came sniffing around the bend after him, and before long our whole group was packed into the submarine's hold.

A debate then ensued out over whether or not to commandeer our newfound vessel. I won't bore with the details, but it broke down like so:  
Marle thought it was cool as hell, Frog thought it was suspicious as hell, Mishu said it stank like hell, and Magus hoped it sank and sent us all to hell.

Ayla was the one to compare the boat to the Epoch, and by her simplified logic, if a big metal bird could fly in the air, a big metal fish could swim underwater, too. At any rate, she supported the venture.

Crono didn't need to be talked into it; he had already made up his mind. The only real trouble was starting the thing--I mean, we had no idea how long that deathtrap had been sitting there, or _why_ it was sitting there, or how much fuel it had, or _what kind _of fuel it used--and judging by the luminance of the cabin lights, it didn't have much battery power left. Crono nudged me with an entreating look, asking for my expertise--since by the powers of deduction I was the only one qualified to work on the thing. It was a fascinating locomotive, don't get me wrong, and under any other circumstances I would have loved to check out its machinery, but we were kind of in the middle of a pursuit and pressed for time, not to mention Magus's patience.

Besides, no offense to Ayla, but this was no Epoch--not even close. Seriously, how did we keep getting stuck with these broken-down rust buckets? First Jerad's truck, now this... I'm sure it would have been easier with a human body, but as I was, I gave the engine compartment a cursory inspection, just getting an idea of the type of propulsion it used and whether or not any parts were in immediate danger of disrepair. It was interesting; I found what I suspected were hydrogen fuel cells, coupled with some oxygen and hydrogen tanks. If the gauges read correctly, fuel wouldn't be a problem. The rest was up to Marle's favorite game of pushing random buttons until something happened. I hate to admit it, but it's always worked out for us in the past. …Science help us.

Eventually something went right, because the boat rumbled into a rough-yet-steady start. Once Ayla threw off the mooring lines and Crono manned the captain's seat, everyone sat back, crossed their fingers (Frog made a hasty sign of prayer and looked up to whatever deity protects you from a horrible lung-crushing death) and enjoyed the ride. It was just like old times, right? It was slow going at first (our esteemed pilot couldn't discern port from starboard, although to his credit the levers were aligned vertically rather than laterally), and even with a headlight it was tough to see through the turbid shallows, but once the floor dropped, the sea seemed to open up for us.

For a minute there, the danger of sinking or running into deadly sea monsters receded from everyone's minds, because the sight that unfolded was just too spectacular to ignore. From the bed of the ocean rose a mountain range of coral that glowed under its own eerie light, in micaceous flecks of neon color that countered the sea blues and dazzled all the more for it. Crimson flora blossomed along rocky arches that were so delicately and symmetrically arranged it almost seemed deliberate--they blanketed a canyon that led all the way to a colossal mound of smooth, gleaming obsidian. With all the natural architecture and supernatural lights, it was a hauntingly beautiful parallel to the domed city we left behind.

"Gadzooks..." Frog scarcely remembered to breathe.

"Ayla never know world under sea so pretty, like every flower and firefly in the world."

Marle was likewise enthralled by the view. "This is amazing... Who would have dreamed something like this was down here?"

"It seems so out of place... It's almost like someone put it there," Magus didn't fail to remark. He was seeing what I was seeing, then; that this veritable garden under the sea had to have a gardener.

What caught our attention, however, was a figure that darted right in front of our boat. It was a lithe blur that circled around and back to the window with inhuman speed, like a shark sizing up a potential meal--only it wasn't a shark, we realized once it stopped and stared at us from a fair distance. It wasn't any Mystic or dragon we were hunting for, either. Even with the aquatic grace and translucent fins it looked strangely, surprisingly...

...Well, human.

* * *

A/N: There's the end of the fourth part. The fifth and final one lies ahead, along with the mysterious Ramezia.

Next time! The Hidden City.


	21. The Secret City

**21. The Secret City**

We stared out the window at this strange creature for a good, long minute--while the creature stared right back, making me feel like we were trapped in some kind of freak reverse-aquarium.

"Is it a naga?" Marle guessed.

"Not like any naga I've ever seen," Frog contradicted. Naga didn't have legs, for starters. Long fins fanned from its hips and elbows, flowing like silk around its childlike figure. "Perhaps a naiad?" A water nymph, what? Frog's been reading too many _ye olde fairie tales_.

It tipped its head sideways, regarding us with an open expression. "It seems curious about us," Mishu noted.

"Good curious or bad curious?" Marle had to ask. Curiosity denoted intelligence, but that didn't necessarily bode well. Giant, shipwrecking, man-eating squid are considered 'intelligent.' Chimps are intelligent--compared to, say, ants or rocks. _Heckran_ are intelligent, and they still want to rip our faces off.

Before we could direct any more questions at an insentient sheet of glass, the creature started swimming in the opposite direction. "Oh! It's leaving."

"We scare away?" Ayla considered.

Magus observed its pausing strides through the water. "Doesn't look like it's in a hurry."

"It's heading down towards that reef," Frog pointed out. "Should we follow it?" Marle asked.

"Nothing ventured..." Frog began to say as Crono pushed the throttle, and our little boat puttered ahead. We descended into the colorful trench after the creature, navigating through rings of coral. Exotic fish spun around our boat in black and yellow streaks, green kelp and red anemone wafted overhead like tree branches in a deep blue breeze, and within fissures in the canyon walls we could spy volcanic vents issuing scalding minerals in almost pleasant trickles. The hot springs explained the proliferation of sea life at such a cold depth, at any rate.

The creature occasionally looked over its shoulder, checking on us, and its patient strokes rather suggested that it _wanted_ us to follow it. Before long a great, cinder-coated dome was looming ahead, with ghostly shapes flashing and waning within its pearly black shell. A tunnel was hidden beneath a shelf of coral at the base, and after a second's hesitation we squeezed into the dark passage. As we neared the ocean floor, the hull of our vessel groaned ominously, and I kept an anxious eye on the sign by the instrument panel that read, 'MAXIMUM DIVE: 500 M.'

Our way was lit by a straight row of lights along the jagged roof of the tunnel, which was graciously short--as soon as the path opened into a shallow bay, I felt the cabin pressure spike with a unanimous sigh of relief. A glassy ceiling marked the surface, which the creature breached without a second glance, vanishing from sight. Crono haltingly brought the boat as close to the shore as he dared before killing the engine.

We basked in dim, uncertain silence for a moment before Marle stood up and declared, "Well, um... I guess we're here?"

"Wherever this be," Frog concurred. "Shall we go and see?"

Without further preamble we picked ourselves up and shuffled out of the submarine, Crono punching the hatch open and going first (and I second, perched on his shoulder again.) Sedimentary slabs of copper oxide and lime converged above us, forming a wide, hollow cavern. The dull green rocks were painted in flickering, refracted light from the restless water below, and ahead was an even platform that led to a couple of metallic panels in a wall of sculpted onyx--a remarkably artificial facade in such a natural harbor.

Crono hopped onto solid ground and the rest of our shambling crew followed, breathing in the cool, moist air. Standing on the platform between the suspicious door and us was that creature--that strange person, and we kept our distance, huddling on the edge of the rocks.

It was even smaller up close--a petite biped with blue speckled skin and uniform slits along its ribs, presumably gills. It had a nub of nose as well, on an impish face with eyes set forward beneath a long, sloping brow. There were webbed digits on its small hands and feet, and ridged fins on the sides of its head that resembled ears. Its arms were curled up to its chest in an apprehensive stance, even as it blinked at us with wide, guileless violet eyes.

"Hello..." Marle spoke up, failing to sound more friendly than cautious--and to our surprise the creature spoke back.

"Are you... humans?" It--she--had the voice of a little girl, brimming with naiveté.

Marle took a step forward, encouraged by her timid manner. "We are. And what are you?"

"I'm a Fardon," she recited slowly, like a schoolchild. "Mommy says humans are 'the scudge of the earf'. That's why we stay away from human places. Is a scudge like a monster?"

"Aww, we're not monsters..." Marle knelt closer, putting on an amicable mien--the same one she puts on around puppies and babies. "We won't hurt you, we promise. What's your name?"

"Pillie..." she replied diffidently, pawing the ground with her foot.

"Pillie? That's a cute name! I'm Marle, and this is..." What was this, round three? Four? Marle was our official greeter.

Before anyone could teach her different, Pillie's eyes lit on me and she exclaimed with a bright grin, "A fire birdy!" She rushed up to Crono and me and held up grasping hands that made me recoil with a startled murmur. "Just like in the stories Gritchen tells me! What's its name? Can I hold it? Please please please?"

Crono smirked and gladly passed me into her clutches. "Pigeon." I was going to kill him. Suddenly the bastard was a hell of a lot more talkative when I couldn't talk back--how about that?

Marle and Frog sniggered while Pillie mishandled my gangling bird self, hugging me at a weird angle and letting my feathers stick to her wet skin. "Oh, it feels dry and funny! I like Pigeon. Is it a girl birdy or a boy?" I hate my life.

"Hehe, she's a girl. So what were you doing out there, Pillie?" Marle gently questioned.

"Oh..." She stopped her fumbling petting and turned a thoughtful look to the ceiling. "I was looking for Levi."

"Oh? Who's that?"

"Levi's my friend! But I think Mommy took him away..."

Ayla looked like she was about to say something, but right then the metal doors opened, retracting into the wall with a mechanical _woosh_. We whirled to face the figure that entered: a tall, stiff-statured humanoid in a black cloak and hood. He strode across the dewy floor on flat feet that clapped like a duck's, calling, "Pillea!"

Pillie dropped me, ran out and embraced his legs, chirping merrily, "Gritchen!"

This Gritchen person didn't mind us for a moment, stooping to chide Pillie first. "Your mother had us looking everywhere for you. Now isn't the time to be playing outside."

"I'm sorry... I was looking for Levi. He wouldn't come when I called and I couldn't find him anywhere," she sniveled.

"He's with your mother," he curtly consoled her, and then finally leveled with us. His hood slipped down to reveal a ghastly visage in contrast to Pillie's. He had the angular chin, brow and nose of a man, a stark white complexion and eyes like shiny coals--his stare was a black abyss.

"Hi there, we were just..." Marle started, faintly apologetic. It was hard not to be intimidated by a face like that.

"You're the humans," he cut her off, no explanation apparently necessary. His tone--though calm--was just loud and blunt enough to sound hostile. "I presume you are here to learn the truth."

Marle dropped the courtesy and began firing questions. "That would be a start! Are you with Ramezia? And Heckran and the Mystics, too?"

His gaze drooped, oddly submissive--I then noticed the way the back of his head tapered into a tail-like... projection, with a spaded fin like a dolphin's. You can't tell me a bizarre appendage like that is in any way functional under the water. What exactly were these people? They didn't quite look like merfolk, and they didn't quite look like nereid, either--and that pretty much exhausted the bestiary of aquatic humanoids (both real and imaginary.) "You are suspicious. I understand. My name is Gritchen; I am Lady Ramezia's retainer. And Miss Pillea is her daughter."

"Daughter?!" We reeled back a step. Retainer? This must be the 'contact' of Ramezia's that Jerad described, the one 'like a butler.'

"So you are working for Ramezia," Frog emphasized, his hand straying towards his sword.

"Yes," Gritchen plainly confessed. "I beg you stay your weapons. I will not have violence before Miss Pillea."

Magus raised a piqued eyebrow, flexing his spellcasting hand through his glove. "So you'd have it elsewhere?" Good grief, diplomacy is just not our strong suit.

"What's going on? These humans aren't bad, are they?" Pillea asked fretfully into Gritchen's cloak.

Gritchen rested a pale, long-fingered hand on her shoulder and merely said, "No. No, they are friends. They're here to help us."

"Really...?" Marle asked as the rest of our group exchanged baffled looks. Was this guy supposed to be our enemy or what?

Gritchen started to guide his charge towards the door. "Pillea, would you wait for me in the commons? I must discuss some important business with our new friends."

"Aww, but..." Pillea whined as she complied, plodding out the gate that automatically closed after her. Once she left, Gritchen focused those inky eyes on us again.

"This is a delicate situation. I do not doubt the trouble Heckran and his Mystics have given you, but this colony is a safe haven, so long as I am in charge."

"Just what the hell is this place?" Mishu asked.

"We are the Fardon Clan, and beyond this gate is our main city. Our people have lived here in peace and isolation for nearly four hundred years."

"Four hundred years? And where were you before then?" Marle wondered.

I thought that was a funny question to ask, yet Gritchen's answer was even stranger--almost as strange as how easily he divulged it. "You see... We are not of this world. We are refugees from our home planet, which was constantly torn by strife and war. We Fardons did not believe in taking up arms against our brothers, so we fled to this world through the gate shrines."

"That's amazing! So you're aliens, like Mishu," Marle inferred, flicking a glance towards the dragon lady that Gritchen caught.

He squinted leerily at her. "A neiphiti? The archmage isn't conducting an investigation on this planet, is he?"

Mishu scoffed. "No. I'm not with the damn Peacekeepers."

"Ah. Just as well." Gritchen henceforth ignored her, resuming his narrative. "Our colony was established here so that other sentient races may not find it. We never wished to become entangled in the affairs of your world. However, everything changed since Lord Rufu died. That's when his cousin, Lady Ramezia, assumed control of the colony. I've always held the highest esteem for Lady Ramezia--she is kind and just, and her rulings wise--but this latest arrangement with Heckran has cast a dark shadow on our fortunes. Worst of all, I'm one of the only ones who know of it. Hardly anyone knows the true nature of our alliance with the Mystics. I've had to keep Miss Pillea from discovering the truth." His gaze fell as he somberly admitted, "If my people only knew what is truly taking place... I cannot believe they would stand for it."

"Why no speak, then? Tell people what happen. No one help if no one ask for help," Ayla accosted him.

"I cannot speak. Lady Ramezia's utmost confidence is in me. If I were to betray it, the consequences could be severe."

"You're just a coward, then," Magus snubbed.

Gritchen's expression sharpened. "Do not mistake us. We Fardons are not a militant people. Harmony with one another and with nature is our chief ideal. We would never condone violence against humankind or any other intelligent race."

"You tried to sack our castle!" Marle pointed out, exasperated.

"That was Heckran's doing. He was only commissioned to retrieve the stones. Whatever methods he employed are of his own vindictive agenda. He believes he has to avenge his father's death with blood. For what it's worth, you have my condolences for any losses your people have sustained."

Gee, for some reason that didn't make me feel better. "What exactly is Heckran doing with Ramezia?" Marle asked.

"Their objective is mutual: to eradicate humankind. Heckran desires war, yet as I have mentioned, my people would never support it. Lady Ramezia's solution, however... it is almost more heinous."

"How? What is she going to do?"

"She intends to..." He hesitated, gathering a grim idea. "Have you ever heard of the _Vitraevos_?"

"No, I--" Marle began to answer, but then Magus interjected, "It's a water spell, the most powerful one in the books. It's said to be capable of wiping out entire cities, but it's nearly impossible to cast without an immense amount of time and power."

Gritchen nodded. "Yes, so you do know of it. Lady Ramezia intends to cast that very spell, but on a scale that's never been achieved before. If she succeeds--and I pray she does not--the entire planet will succumb to the ocean, and every inch of land will be washed away."

Our group staggered through shock and outrage. "What?! She can't do that!"

"Why? Why do such a thing?" Frog uttered, appropriately horrified.

Gritchen frankly explained, "Lady Ramezia swears it's the wickedness of the humans that drives her to purge them from this world, but... I sincerely believe it all began with that necklace."

"A necklace?" Marle's fingers reflexively curled around her own pendant.

"One day several months ago, Miss Pillea was playing in the Uroborus Trench nearby, where she discovered some buried ruins. She gathered some shiny stones she found inside and made a necklace out of them as a gift for her mother. One of those stones... It had a strange aura about it. Lady Ramezia could sense some arcane power within, not unlike her summon stones, and when she wore the necklace she claimed it gave her supernatural insight. She is a caller, you see, so such things are not out of the ordinary--"

"A caller?" Marle interrupted.

"A summoner, one who calls the magic beasts that protect this planet. Pillea has the gift, as well. But yes, from that day forward the lady... changed. At first I mistook her zeal to expand our colony for a good sign, but her ambition soon lent towards obsession. She became difficult to approach and unreasonable in her demands, and the matter only worsened when she discovered that strange gate."

Ayla bristled with interest. "What gate? Where find?"

"Lady Ramezia had Pillea show her the ruins where she found that stone. Inside was an anomaly that we first mistook for a collapsed gate shrine. We restored it and built a lab around the premises, yet when we tested the gate, the results were unexpected. We traveled back and forth through the gate, studying the ruins we found on the other side, although it was not until much later that we realized where it truly led."

"Into the past," Magus deduced, and Gritchen nodded again.

"Yes. We had stumbled over the secret of time travel. It was a novelty at first, but soon this grandiose notion came over Lady Ramezia--the idea to change the past, to improve the world. She studied your planet's history, and it was not long before she determined that the best course for this planet's welfare would be to remove human beings from it altogether. It was then that Lady Ramezia found the means to do so--a machine uncovered in those ancient ruins."

Marle looked perplexed and disturbed enough for all of us. "A machine?"

"That is the only way I can describe it. It is a man-made construction almost beyond our comprehension. It seemed to once serve as a conduit for a great form of energy, and was insulated with a red mineral of the highest magical density. Lady Ramezia had our chief engineers restore it and some of the ruins around it, creating a second laboratory. She sought an alliance with Heckran in order to procure materials and labor from the surface, and she contracted a group of humans researching time theory to stabilize and enhance the gates--all covertly, of course. From there, Lady Ramezia plotted to use the machine to cast the _Vitraevos_ in such a way that it would draw strength through the time gates, from every connected era."

"A machine, huh...?" Magus muttered darkly, yet didn't speculate any further. "So you needed the Dreamstone, the Rainbow Shell and Sun Stone to restore the machine," Frog realized.

"The Dreamstone was essential, yes. The Sun Stone provided a power source with which we could test the machine." Gritchen's head ticked lightly to one side, bemused. "I know nothing of a Rainbow Shell. You might have to ask Heckran after that."

Marle gaped. "So he just took it for no good reason?!"

Frog scowled. "I'm sure that fiend meant to stuff his fat pockets with it."

"Has Heckran been here recently?" Marle pressed.

"Indeed, he just passed through. I believe he took the gate out to meet Lady Ramezia."

"We need to go there!"

"Of course. I shall escort you," Gritchen consented with a bow, as formal and agreeable as a housemaid.

Marle held back, trading wary looks with Frog and Crono. "Really? Just like that?"

Gritchen gave a quiet sigh and said weightily, "I know it is not easy to understand or trust me, as we have only just met, but... I require your help. To save this colony, and... to save the world." If that was to be believed, it would explain why he just out and told us everything with our barely asking.

Ayla nodded soundly. "Good, we help. Take us to gate, we fix." She always made these things sound so simple, like we were going to change a light bulb in the closet rather than rushing to stop the most apocalyptic magic spell the world has ever seen. If only we had gotten here sooner...

"I can guide you through the aeroducts," Gritchen offered. "However, it will not do for you to cross the city as you are. Though my clan does not believe in violence, humans are still not trusted here. It would be preferable if you were disguised."

"O... kay?" Marle mulled over that while Magus loosened his cloak and drew it over his head and shoulders, concealing himself just as he did when he played Zeal's prophet. "Hrmph, that's easy for you," Mishu grumbled at him, and Crono snickered at the dragon lady's scanty attire.

"Oh!" Marle snapped her fingers with a bright idea. "Hey guys, why don't we use that beast thingy Mishu just taught us?"

"Beast talent," Mishu clarified, while Ayla bounced in place, excited. "Ha! Good plan, Ayla like! Watch!" And right there, impressing us with her powers of recall, she spoke the _Gi'ira_'s incantation perfectly, down to the last syllable. _"Tae'lo espirie encantu bae'ra sec l'on!"_

No sooner had she said this than she changed, that golden fire consuming her form and smelting a giant sabre-toothed cat from a woman. We jumped back, amazed by how quickly and fluidly the transformation took place, as if it were second nature to Ayla. In no more than ten seconds we were looking at a grunting, pacing feline that looked both impatient and pleased with itself at once.

If Gritchen was fazed by the spectacle, he didn't show it--not even flinching. "Ah, a neiphiti trick...? Fascinating."

Marle nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It's like... Um..." She bit her lip and then said sheepishly, "How does it go, again...?"

Mishu rolled her eyes and coached her through it, and after listening carefully Crono followed her example, joining the flock of birds we were starting. Three's company, and all. Frog was less eager to become a dog again, but under the circumstances he relented. Interestingly, the Masamune refused to change with him, and it took an extra minute with Gritchen's assistance to strap the sword securely onto his back.

That left Mishu, who was receiving an insistent stare from Gritchen. "What?" she spat defensively. "I'm not a damn human! I shouldn't have to change. My beast form wouldn't fit through that fuckin' door, anyway." A pity, since I was curious to see what it looked like--probably a very nasty dragon.

"If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck..." Magus cracked an obscure joke.

Gritchen was less subtle. "You do appear human, though. Here, take this..." He removed his cloak, revealing a lean, smooth, masculine body with narrow cartilaginous fins, like oars. The naked fish man made a bizarre sight. He gave the garment to Mishu, who grimaced at its rubbery texture.

"Ugh, what is this thing made of?"

"Stingray skin," Gritchen replied with such a straight face that I nearly burst out laughing.

"Are you fucking kidding me...?" Mishu griped as she put it on anyway. It was an awkward fit, the bulge of her wings making her look like a hunchback. Thus satisfied with our guises, Gritchen opened the door and led us through. Crono, Marle and I hitched a ride on Ayla's back, Frog walked alongside us and Magus and Mishu took up the rear--we looked like a roving circus, or a delinquent zoo.

"Heh. Dog," Magus made a point to mock Frog's condition, apparently finding it the most hysterical thing since turning him into a frog in the first place. The dog threw back an indignant _whuff_ in reply.

We entered a circuitous promenade, where turquoise and coral tile drew an elaborate mosaic on the floor--fish, waves, whales and clams, all rendered in a piecemeal tapestry that was so splendid it felt like a shame to walk on it. I was almost too captivated by the ocean motif to notice the real deal when it unfolded around the next bend, and when Crono cuffed me with one of his short wings I turned so we could collectively gawk at the Fardon's amazing city.

Just a few feet to our right was a convex wall of water supported by nothing as far as we could see, yet it contained a globe that spanned half a mile, at least, and this space was filled to the brim with sea life. Tiers of buildings that looked like adobe huts were arrayed in spiral avenues around a seashell at the center that was as large as a small mountain. Schools of brightly colored fish and people like Gritchen populated this vast enclosure, swimming in and out of niches in the nautilus-esque masonry, which was festooned with silver banners that floated in the watery draughts like gossamer curtains. There were lamps on the corners of superficial streets that glowed like fireflies, and stripes of soft green light that painted nearly every surface in zigzagging, arcane patterns, both illuminating and animating this submerged metropolis as if by an untold source of power.

It was glorious in a dreamlike way, just like our first impression of the kingdom floating in the sky. Every column we passed opened a new window to a unique district of the city. Gritchen had to spur us on before we became fixtures, and we paced slowly around the panorama, drinking it all in.

"It is amazing, yes?" Gritchen blandly boasted. "We built every brick of our colony around the ocean floor, hiding in the reef and taking sustenance from it. We farm from the kelp fields to the east, and the turbines we constructed over the volcanic springs harvest its power and provide us fuel and energy. We make our lives here, and give all we can back to our matron ocean."

"It's different," Magus nonchalantly remarked, and that was as close as you could get to impressing him.

One of the Fardons surprised us by approaching the rim of the globe and passing through the wall. He effortlessly found purchase on the dry floor and then stood before us. He seemed to be male, like Gritchen, although shorter and with broader fins. He cast an inquisitive look over our party. "Hello Master Gritchen! Are you on your way to the laboratory?" he politely enquired.

Gritchen answered with the bearing of a undertaker, "Indeed. These Mystic scientists and I are escorting some specimens to the lab."

The stranger blinked at Magus and Mishu before speaking cordially again. "I see. Such exotic creatures! Surface dwellers, yes? I wonder what use the lab has for them. I heard there's going to be an assembly there soon. Lady Ramezia's secret project is nearly complete, I take it? The commons have been rife with rumors."

"We shall see," was all Gritchen would say, and the stranger was taken aback by his cold demeanor.

"Ah, well. I won't delay you, then. Good luck, Master Gritchen," he said, shying back the way he came. Once he vanished, our trek resumed.

"I hope we will not have to evacuate the colony," Gritchen gravely remarked.

We circumambulated the city globe, heading into a room that was blocked off from the public. It was decorated in more of those carved onyx slabs, and situated in the middle was a set of steps leading onto a gilded platform. It was painfully familiar for the pentagram engraved on the top, and Gritchen explained why: it was a magic teleporter, and it would take us instantly to the undersea lab. We followed his lead onto the circle etched in the stone, which lit up green on contact and washed out the world around us with that distinctly disorienting warping sensation.

When we reappeared in the next room, most of us in our beast forms tumbled out of them, the lapse in concentration enough to reverse the spell. I was thrown off Ayla's back with a nearly blinding flare, but of our lot I was the only one to keep my composure and not turn back into a human. I was a little proud of that feat.

Gritchen paced between the archways leading out of the teleporter room, giving a cursory check for unexpected guests. His unburdened posture on his return indicated that we were luckily alone. Without another word, he motioned us down a short hall and into another room, this one occupied by the very prominent and recognizable edifice of a gate shrine. The gate within was definitely active, its electric fire reflecting off the silver rings and cascading over the four surrounding pillars in alluring blue ripples.

Ayla bounded up its steps and waved exuberantly, no mind for caution, stealth or any other kind of subtlety. "Yes! Gate! We go, stop Ramezia, help everyone!"

The rest of us gathered around the base of the shrine and circulated an uncertain look that drifted back to Gritchen. "Yes, Ramezia should be beyond that gate, in the past. You should go to her before it is too late."

Magus scathingly questioned, "You expect us to believe that you'd ally with us against the woman that rules over your people? And we're not walking into another trap, because...?"

"I suppose I cannot offer you any assurance on that," Gritchen responded candidly. "It is up to whether or not Lady Ramezia anticipates your arrival. If Heckran went ahead to warn her, she will be prepared for an intrusion. I only trust you all to survive because you have made it this far." He then looked directly at Magus. "That old man's faith in you has been upheld, it seems."

That esoteric remark got our attention. "What old man?" Mishu asked.

"Lady Ramezia is holding a hostage, a human skilled in magic craft. She has coerced him into working on the machine. The man resisted at first, but then agreed to help so long as your life was spared. He must have believed that you would return and bring help."

So, the people who captured Magus in the very beginning were Ramezia and her clan, and they released him through the gate at the behest of some old man? How was that story believable on any rational level? Who on Earth but the most senile geezer would place that much trust in _Magus_?

"Really? We have to go save him, then!" Marle asserted, oblivious to any other connotations--maybe Ayla really is her ancestor.

Once more Gritchen nodded, looking at each of us and supplicating in such an earnest tone that it was impossible not to believe him, "I understand this is a difficult request, especially coming from a stranger and a foreigner to your world, but I implore you: please save Lady Ramezia. Stop that evil machine, before it destroys her."

He then lowered a sullen, dire look that overcast the cool gleam in his pitch eyes. "...Before it destroys us all."

* * *

A/N: Pillea plays a bigger role in _Chimera Quest_, but that's much, much later, and of no concern here.

It's also not relevant at this point, but for the record for these stories, the CT gang took on Lavos by ramming it with the Epoch. Lucca mentioned earlier here that they stormed the Black Omen, and that's also true. Since there are multiple paths to Lavos in the game and they're all pretty much equally valid, I went ahead and merged a couple of 'em. For _science_.

Anyway, thanks again to everyone reading! Next time, we get to meet a sorceress.


	22. The Magic Machine

**22. The Magic Machine**

Gritchen selected the rune on the gate that held the coordinate for Ramezia's second lab. It was the 'shadow' one, which was grimly appropriate.

However, our very first order of business-before jumping headfirst into a fluke of nature or a Mystic trap or who knows what else to rescue some old man and save the world-we made Mishu show us how exactly she had been using the gates. She threw off Gritchen's cloak, cracked her knuckles and brusquely marched up the shrine's steps, declaring, "It's simple. Trained monkeys could do it. Well, monkeys trained to use magic."

We stood back and watched as she approached one of the pillars, reached out and set her palm in a chalky engraving shaped like a paw print. "These things are hollow. You cast a spell inside it, see, like this..." Mishu paused to focus, an airless wind building to a whistling pitch around her feet. There was a soft lilac glow that vanished beneath her fingertips, seemingly absorbed by the stone. As the murmur of magic died down, that same hue streaked through the fluorescent cables around the pillar, into the floor and up to the pedestal that supported the gate. We heard a muffled yet resonant _click_ within the column, and Mishu stepped back, nodding at it.

"There. Like that. It sets the switch in there. You do it to all four and it opens the gate. It's designed that way so not just any numbskull can accidentally trigger it." So that's why a bunch of common Mystics armed with clubs and pitchforks could open these gates, while a team of college students versed in quantum chronodynamics was stumped. The key actuator was magic, something beyond the average human's grasp.

"And what kind of spell was that?" Frog enquired.

Mishu shrugged, not deeming that detail pertinent. "Any spell. Wind, water, whatever." Really? _Any_ spell? I could set the thing on _fire_?

As if she were reading my mind (which was disturbingly possible), she contested, "Just use magic-it soaks it right up. Don't believe me? You try it."

Magus strode forward, intending to do just that. He stopped at the pillar next to Mishu's and touched the imprint. Barely a thought whispered past his lips when a dark violet pulse snaked through the cables around the column and likewise into the gate. _Click_. "Huh," he flatly remarked.

"That's it? I wanna try it," Marle said, and she skipped to the third pillar. The paw print there dwarfed her small hand, yet it received her spell just the same when she closed her eyes and prayed for ice. A streak of neon blue joined the other two colors at the gate's pedestal. _Click_. "Oh! That is pretty easy. Cool."

I was thinking about a lot of things as we unlocked the gate, namely Gritchen's report that Ramezia was waiting for us in the past. That didn't ring right with me. Supposing that her base of operations _was_ in the past, where she found that machine-which sounded dreadfully familiar, and I think Magus agreed with me, even though being on the same page as Magus about anything was scary-but anyway, if her big plan was being executed back in time, wouldn't we already have seen the ramifications in the future?

Case in point: Lavos. We knew we had to save the future from Lavos because Lavos's shot at apocalyptic world domination was _successful_-the effects were obvious; the damage was done. Yet here, it was just... raining a lot, which was inconvenient, but world-flooding magic spells don't precipitate through time like that. The purported effect of the _Vitraevos_ hadn't been fulfilled, which made me wonder if it would even work the way Ramezia intended. I mean, if her plan really was successful, we should've been dog paddling the minute we stepped out the gate into this era. Ostensibly, the _Vitraevos_ will-has-failed by default and we could all just turn around and go home-unless you wanted to use Marle's dead Reptite logic and say the spell fails because we go in and stop it, but that's getting ahead of ourselves. Fate. Predestination.

Bullshit.

Then there's what Gritchen said about how she's casting the spell: with the machine, _through_ the gates. How exactly did that work? In which time era would the spell be localized? Here? Then? _All of them_? Is that why we were getting rained on _everywhere_? What was fueling this deluge, all the world's oceans? It was drawing water from somewhere-you can't cast elemental magic in a vacuum (or can you? That would make an interesting experiment...)

Not to mention that this entire complex was suspiciously void of occupants. If this laboratory and gate were so important to Ramezia, then why hadn't she posted any guards? And don't give me any of that Fardon pacifist rubbish-what about staff? There was a lab crew in charge of this place, right? Where were they? Who was watching the gate? How did I know that rune stood for 'shadow'? Why was there a fin on the back of Gritchen's head? _And where the hell did my bag go? _So much of this didn't make any damn sense.

Really, I was worried about the _Vitraevos_ working because of our interference, rather than despite it. Wasn't anyone else considering this? Of course not; even if the rest of Gritchen's tale was bunk, we were still going to rescue an old man-which was another convenient story to keep us motivated, if I do say so, myself. _'Oh by the way, there's a hostage. You might want to save him, too.'_ Nice how Gritchen slipped that one in, real sly. Even Magus was going along with this, though that didn't surprise me. He didn't care about the future; he just wanted to get back his own in the past. Whatever that was. But even if he was thinking what I was thinking, why should he speak up and stop us? Of course, I could have changed back and said something, but-I didn't. I was so...

"May I?"

Frog stepped up to the task, next and last. The fourth pillar accepted his watery blue offering, and the portal fired to life with a click and a boom, sapphire gales filling the room and striking us with that split second of awe that always precedes a jump into an unknown gate. I remember Frog smiling, then-a real smile, a smile with a purpose. We loved what we did. We lived for it, and we lived so that others could, too. It was easy to forget it all and remember everything important when staring into the eye of eternity.

_Take a deep breath._ I was riding on Crono's shoulder again. I couldn't read his face, but when Marle nodded, he nodded back.

_One, two, three..._ And if we never came back, it might be okay.

_Jump._

I had to retract everything I thought about the lab not being well staffed the moment we set foot on the other side of the gate, hands and wings wheeling for balance over the marble steps falling away from the shrine. We checked behind and around us-Gritchen didn't follow. That figured. Directly ahead, a silver emblem reminiscent of a long-forgotten land hung over an open door, where a Fardon man in a white shawl was brandishing a strange, ivory-toothed pike in our direction.

"_Noc tah._ Who goes there?" he issued a typical guard's hail.

Magus took the lead, towering over the diminutive guard in less than three seconds. "Ramezia. Where is she?"

"Busy," the guard responded tersely, and I could tell by way he looked Magus up and down and shrank an inch that he was reconsidering his manners. He gruffly spun about and nodded out the door. "...Follow me." Discretion was the better part of valor, indeed.

He led us down a corridor of interlaced archways, where the floor gave way to obsidian tiles that mirrored the warm molten torchlight mounted on the walls. The brass skirting was cracked and corroded where salted decay chewed through the corners, and some of the slabs of dark blue steel were better polished than others. We passed a statue that caught my eye-sheer bronze once, now coated in briny tarnish and lime that hadn't been scrubbed out of all the creases. Its ruby eyes winked at me, and I realized that I had seen it before, in its glory days-in a city that hence plummeted into the ocean. It was the image of a woman with a dragon's tail and wings, crouching like a gargoyle. I had wondered what it resembled once, yet now I wondered why.

_'Neiphiti?'_ reverberated in my thoughts, and Mishu checked over her shoulder with a wince, overhearing me.

_'What?'_

I shook my head, dismissing the apparition. _'Nothing...'_

We turned into a wide room, where a pair of Fardons were reclining in a pool of water paved with porous bricks. Another was standing off to the side, looking rather absurd in a lab coat and wire-framed spectacles. Their conversation ceased the moment we waltzed in, although the surprise was ours once another figure bolted out of his chair on the other side of the room. He gaped at us and we returned the favor, astonished.

"Melchior?" Marle squeaked.

"Ugh, so it's you," Magus grumbled, sounding just a little disgusted.

He looked... well, I wouldn't say fine and dandy, but I wouldn't say mistreated, either. His shirtsleeve was rent at the shoulder and he wore a pallid, harried countenance under the starchy white mustache, yet he didn't bear restraints or other trappings of a prisoner. The squat man hobbled towards us like a shell-shocked zombie, uttering adulations to the highest star. "Good sweet heavens, it's you. You've returned. Praise to the great fates and every god that doesn't exist!"

Marle rushed forward, taking his hand where a cane would normally support him. "Melchior, I can't believe you're here! Are you okay?"

Melchior breathlessly nodded. "Yes, yes, I am well. That's the least of our worries, I'm afraid."

One of the Fardons climbed out of the pool, swept an unassuming glance over our group and then tipped a look at Melchior. "Friends of yours?"

"Ah! Yes, they are." Melchior brought the strangers forward. "Everyone, this is Mal, and Tikal, and over there is Samera, the head researcher of this laboratory. They're all from the Fardon Colony."

Frog bowed courteously towards the Fardons, who mimicked the gesture. "Yes, Gritchen told us about your people."

Melchior relaxed with a sigh. "Oh, you've met Gritchen. Good. He's been helping me."

Marle smiled brightly and extended her hand, the usual introduction bubbling out. "Hi! I'm Marle, and-"

Magus abruptly grabbed her by the chin, squeezing her cheeks so that her lips puckered shut. Marle froze on the spot, blinking until her startled expression transitioned to a mildly outraged one, and she stood quietly glaring up at the warlock with her fists balled at her sides, miffed. Hilarious.

"You, stop talking," he commanded in a blunt, irritable tone that no longer afforded patience. Magus then stabbed his free hand towards Melchior. "You, start talking. What's going on? Where's Ramezia?"

I think this was why we didn't let Magus lead our party the last time.

"Very well," Melchior acquiesced. "I'll tell you everything I know, but it might not be much. You see, I've been imprisoned here against my will."

"By Ramezia?" Frog made the obvious guess.

His cheeks flushed with anger. "Her and that damn Seth! He controlled me! He made me restore the Mammon Machine at Ramezia's bidding."

So it _was_ the Mammon Machine, the cursed centerpiece of Zeal's Ocean Palace-surprise, surprise. Wait, did he say Seth? At our shocked reactions, he elaborated, "Seth is a rapier. They feed on the raw spirit energy of lesser creatures. They can't devour something as complex as a human soul, but they can still possess the body and assume all its knowledge and powers."

Mishu snorted humorlessly. "We know. We ran into Seth on the way here."

"You did?" His round cheeks crinkled with a leery squint. "If one of you brought him back here, so help me...!"

Mishu blithely waved him down. "Relax, you geezer. We got rid of him."

"Are you sure...?" he said, peering critically at each of us. My feathers prickled with shame. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a hand reached around my neck, but it was only Crono scratching under my beak-again, like I was one of his freaking cats. Not that I was about to stop him; the gesture was incredibly soothing (probably due to our beast link, but... I could see why cats would enjoy it, at least.) And I knew what he was trying to say-it was the same thing he told me last night. I didn't have anything to feel guilty about. It was too bad knowing that and feeling that weren't the same thing.

Magus scoffed. "That's funny. One of your 'captors' said you agreed to work on the machine willingly."

Melchior wrung his hands ruefully. "Er... Yes, that is partly true. I struck a bargain with Ramezia. I was hoping to buy time to make my escape. Ramezia agreed, but as soon as she looked the other way, Seth possessed me despite our agreement. He thinks human beings are toys. He said the only reason he didn't kill me was because it would be more fun for me to watch Ramezia's spell damn my kind to a watery hell."

Marle (who had wrenched out of Magus's hold and then forgiven him just as easily) shook her head sympathetically. "That's awful..."

"He's a monster, pure and simple. Hearing you've gotten rid of him is the best news I've received in weeks. But yes, I did agree to help Ramezia, and that is my shame." Melchior gave Magus a pointed look. "It was to save your life, I'll have you know, _Janus_."

I heard his breath catch with a husky snort-that was enough to shut Magus up for a while. Still, his whole secret past identity thing might've been more scandalous if we didn't already know all about it. Janus was a little brat. Magus was a big brat. End of story. Melchior just wasn't as subtle as Gaspar when calling him out on it.

Frog picked up the slack. "What exactly happened there?"

Melchior scratched his head and spoke for the morose warlock. "I can't say for sure, but I imagine he got too close to this lab and triggered the security system. There's a monster Ramezia commands to ward off intruders."

"A sea serpent?"

"So I hear. I haven't seen it, myself." He then directed at Magus, "Why that beast didn't slay you on the spot, I'll never know, but it delivered you to our gates in one piece instead. Perhaps Ramezia was curious, or maybe her kind really is opposed to bloodshed. At any rate, I was able to convince her to spare your life in exchange for my services. I had secretly hoped that you would return and bring help."

"Why you?" Frog wondered. "Why did she get you to help her? How did Ramezia even find you?"

"Hmph! I've been asking myself that for ages. It seems my reputation preceded me for ill, this time. Ramezia has been working with some Mystic rogues that knew my name was connected to the Masamune-how that rumor spread about is anybody's guess. They barged right into my home and dragged me off, the brutes. I woke up here, and that's when Ramezia told me she was going to use my skills to restore the machine."

"The Mammon Machine..." Marle was just putting it together. "So, this place is..."

"The Ocean Palace. Did you recognize it?" Unfortunately. "It's amazing what the Fardons were able to do with the materials that were left. Of course, in this era it's only been a few years since the incident."

Nice how he called that whole 'waking up Lavos to wreck the world and bring the most powerful kingdom in history to its knees' debacle 'the incident.' I would've also bet my life that 'a few years' equated to three. None of this surprised me; it stood to reason that the place Lavos had first been summoned left an indelible mark on the temporal as well as geologic plane of our world. It was just a matter of time before the Fardons found it.

Melchior cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. "But yes, that's all in the past. Let's get to business, shall we? I take it Gritchen told you about the _Vitraevos_? We have to stop Ramezia from casting it, before it's too late."

The Fardons in the room stirred at this announcement. I thought they were going to object, but then the scientist of the bunch, Samera, spoke up. "We shall not impede you. We've been watching everything that's happened, and we want to rescue Lady Ramezia from the throes of that machine, as well." The others nodded, and the guard clacked his pike against the floor emphatically.

Well, it was nice to have local support. Melchior nodded gratefully. "Thank you, all. You have been most gracious hosts." He then anxiously inspected our group. "Now, by any chance did you bring the Masamune? Oh! And the pendant?"

Frog patted the handle of his sword, and Marle fished her heirloom out of her parka, dangling it by the chain. "Here?"

Melchior gave another sigh of relief. "Yes, excellent, thank goodness. You'll need them both to stop the machine. Allow me to explain."

And he did, with Samera chipping in some vital details. Basically, Ramezia was using the power of the Sun Stone to sustain a _sub-temporal aeonic well_, which is a fancy term for a really big time gate. The Mammon Machine was drawing fuel for the _Vitraevos_ from this gate (so basically, yes, from _everywhen_) and storing it in its core, which can compress magical components into energy with-well, I won't say the capacity is limitless, but asking for the density of magic is a lot like asking how many angels can fit on the head of a pin (allegedly an infinite number, by the way. My mother was fond of such religious rhetoric.)

Interestingly, before the Mammon Machine came into the picture, Ramezia had attempted to cast the _Vitraevos_ through the gate shrines manually-and failed, although in an amazing way. It nearly killed her, and a side effect of the attempt was the rain that had started pouring in every era. When persuading Heckran to join forces with her, she managed to twist that failure into an impressive credential-how many sorceresses can claim to control the weather on a global scale?

At any rate, the Mammon Machine was going to accumulate enough water magic for the greatest flood in history, and once it was ready Ramezia would unleash it back through the aeonic well, supposedly to an era of her choosing. That was her plan as far as Melchior and Samera knew, and both doubted Gritchen was any better informed. The Fardon scientists were worried that Ramezia would be unable to precisely redirect the _Vitraevos_ through the gate, or that the absolute power of the spell would overwhelm and kill her-or both-while Melchior's greatest concern was the massive influx of magic damaging the time stream. It didn't sound like a good idea to any of us, but here was the question: Once you open a floodgate, how do you stop it?

"You can't just destroy the machine," Melchior quashed that notion before it was even raised. "The pent-up magic in its core would be released, obliterating this whole lab in an instant. Judging by the stage the spell is at now, it would probably wipe out the mainland, too."

"Then what can we do?" Marle pleaded for the guru's solution.

Melchior reluctantly obliged, lowering his voice. "You have to neutralize the spell first. There is a force capable of this, but it's extremely dangerous. It's what you might call anti-magic."

Frog screwed up an incredulous look. "_Anti_-magic?"

"I know it sounds ineloquent, but that's the best way to describe it. It's a chaotic null, a counterbalance to the order of magic. It exists mostly in theory, in the dead space between elements, yet there is one being that exudes this power-one that's been connected to the machine from the start."

Magus spoke for the first time since his lapse into stony silence, his tone colder and harder than ever. "Lavos."

"Yes... Lavos," Melchior said weakly, enfeebled by that name. "The essence of Lavos's power is that anti-force, that darkness."

Mishu recoiled, eyes wide with horror. "Oh hell no. You're talking about _the_ Darkness, the bane of all magic."

I blinked at her. Could Lavos's power be the same Darkness that Mishu's people attribute to the blight? Would that explain why I...?

Okay, hold that thought. So, Lavos still existed in this time period-that's given that we challenged it-him-whatever in the year 1999 AD, although the exact time and place we defeated him was nebulous. It was an uncomfortable truth that we never confronted, realizing that even though we disposed-will dispose, whatever-of that monster in the future, Lavos would be sleeping peacefully beneath our feet back in our home times. It was a little ironic that this fact would come to our benefit, yet if Melchior was proposing what I thought he was...

"You want us to use the Mammon Machine to draw out Lavos's power?" Frog surmised, less than thrilled by the prospect. "Don't you remember what happened the last time someone did that? It's suicide."

"But it _would_ stop the spell..." Magus started to catch on.

"If you don't draw too much, it should be safe. You'd have to use the pendant as a control switch. That's what it was designed to do," Melchior explained. "Of course, it needs someone with incredible magical prowess and restraint to use it..." He trailed off, eyes lingering on our resident warlock. "Janus-"

"Shut up," Magus coolly snapped. "Stop calling me that and I'll do it."

Marle passed him a surprising look of concern. "Magus..."

He returned an inscrutable stare, and I couldn't tell if he was about to backhand her, or Melchior, or just turn around and leave. "I can handle it."

"Ah, of course." Melchior nodded solemnly. "I don't doubt it. You are your sister's brother, after all."

Magus's brow twitched, and he clenched his fists and turned aside. "It's not that," was all he said, and nobody dared say otherwise.

Crono crossed his arms, smothered a sigh and flicked a glance out the door, nervously drumming his fingers on his elbows. _We need to hurry._

Melchior adjusted his spectacles, switching tack. "All right then, that's settled. Once the spell is neutralized, you can use the Masamune to smash the machine. That will break the mechanism that's holding the Sun Stone, too, which will close the well. The only trouble will be Ramezia herself."

"She's not going to just let us walk in and break everything," Frog said.

"No, she certainly won't. It will be up to all of you to keep her occupied."

"And if she won't listen?" Marle asked, hopelessly.

Melchior set his jaw. "Do whatever it takes." Our group exchanged morbid looks-shotgun diplomacy, got it.

Ayla tapped her foot and waved her hand impatiently. "Ayla ready, we go. Where Ramezia? Take us."

"I'll lead the way. It's down the hall, here..." Melchior started out the door, and Samera and the others bid us good luck. We followed the old man into a grand hall, where our objective and the root of all this trouble were waiting for us.

The first thing we noticed was a shallow fountain rimmed with interwoven bands of bronze and iron. It was raised two feet off the ground, spanned ten feet across and was planted in the center of a room just wide enough to accommodate it. Its surface shimmered like water, yet as we drew near, the spectral ripples of the whirlpool grew evident. This was the _aeonic well_, the gate. It was remarkably placid for such a large distortion, but then I glimpsed the elliptical dial at the head of the fountain and saw what was tempering it: the Sun Stone. Stationed on a dais overlooking the fountain, its bloody quartz tendrils dipping into the temporal pond like tree roots, was the Mammon Machine. Its hideous facade dominated the back wall.

And standing over the fountain and behind the stone, facing the barrel-chested core of the machine was-presumably-Ramezia. She seemed enthralled with the Mammon Machine, refusing to look away even when addressing us.

"So, Melchior, you brought friends. Welcome to my humble lab, humans. I'm glad at least some of you could make it in time to witness your race's glorious demise." She had the sublimely confident voice of a queen, threaded with a hint of malice.

Frog drew the Masamune, which flashed in light of all the chaotic energy pooled before us. "Ramezia! We know what you're scheming, and we're here to stop you!" During his speech, while Ramezia's back was turned, Magus stepped over to Marle and wordlessly confiscated her pendant.

"Fa, ha ha... Stop me? What's there to stop? Do you see this?" She gestured towards the machine's core, which shone with swirling red and blue light. "It's already begun. Once the red turns to blue, all will become one with the sea, and the _Vitraevos_ will be complete."

I'm not sure what I was expecting. She was supposed to be a sorceress, so I had this preconceived mental image of a haggard old witch with a big crooked nose, or a menacing cloak like Magus's. Yet when she finally turned around, I was actually thrown by how... beautiful she was.

Like the other Fardons, she wore little, her womanly curves accentuated by a belt of silver scales and a pair of bangles around her wrists and ankles. She was dark-complexioned like Pillea, with sun-dappled dorsal spots that faded to a lighter blue in the front. Her fins bore long, supple ruffles, and glittered with the iridescent sheen of the well. The crest of her head fanned outward like a crown, with false eyes on each end like a peacock's tail.

The really eye-catching piece, however, was her necklace: a strand of unrefined diamonds supporting a lurid violet shard. It left a spider-trail of livid veins where it touched her skin, feeding a pernicious rash that covered her breast and neck and highlighted her eyes with an unnaturally dark glow.

Mishu bared her fists with a snarl. "Grr, Darkness! She has the fuckin' blight, too!"

Magus narrowed an impossibly insightful look at her necklace before saying, "I see now. It's a piece of Lavos. All the more reason to destroy it."

The blight, the blight, _she has the blight_, the mark of Darkness. Lavos, the Darkness, the blight-so they're all connected? My head was spinning-I needed a second to think that I wasn't going to get, because just when I thought I had eluded them, the black voices found me again.

_'Look brother, there's another dark seed,'_ the cool voice chimed.

_'Gah! How did we miss it?'_

_'Doesn't matter. We can still use it. Lucca,'_ Then it was talking to me-that was the first time I'd ever heard the voices speak my name. _'Get that necklace from her.'_

_'What? Why should I?'_ I railed, not wanting to do anything for those nasty little voices.

_'Do you want to stop Ramezia or not? That necklace is what's poisoning her mind.'_

_'I don't know...'_ the hot voice mused. _'The more I listen to her plan, the more I rather like it.'_

_'Shush, now's not the time,'_ the cool one chided him. _'Lucca, go now. If you can take it away, it'll release the Darkness's hold on her.'_

That sounded fun and all, but... _'What do you want me to do, just fly up there and take it?'_

_'We'll help you.'_ Yeah, right. Getting 'help' from those psychotic voices was about as useful as a kick to the head. It definitely didn't help that I was starting to... well, not like it, but I preferred the cool one. It was the voice of reason-the lesser of two evils, you might say. I didn't trust its beguiling tone one bit, but at least it was pretending to be nice to me.

Meanwhile, a whole other conversation was carrying on without me. Ramezia lowered a mordantly intrigued look at Mishu. "A neiphiti? Quite a surprise to see your kind here. Last I checked, this wasn't one of the archmage's colonies. How are the Peacekeepers faring these days?"

"Like I would know!" Mishu retorted. "You trapped me here so I can't go back, and now all this crap about killing everybody is pissing me off!"

"Oh really? What concern of yours is the fate of this planet, neiphiti? The Peacekeepers have no stake in this world."

"I don't give a fuck about that! I just don't negotiate with fiends! But if I was with the Peacekeepers, I'd tell you that genocide is a little _illegal_."

"Ahaha! An ironic sentiment. Do you even study your own history? The neiphiti are notorious for blood spilling. You're all no better than human."

Mishu bit back another growl as Ramezia continued, "We Fardons have ruled the seas peacefully for four hundred years, yet it is you humans who persecute us-fishing our oceans dry, dumping your trash, your oil and chemicals... You spend all your time and resources finding better ways to slaughter each other and crush any races beneath you, and you throw away everything else. I have no reason to listen to your barbaric banter. We are the superior race, and we will inherit the spoils of your wasted existence!"

"Hey!" Marle piped up, suitably offended. "We humans might not be perfect, but we were still here first! What gives you the right to decide our fate?"

"I have the authority of the whole world!" she brazenly declared. "The planet has spoken to me! It tells me how it longs to be rid of the likes of _you_."

"Planet my ass," Magus spat. "The only one talking to you is Lavos. You're just like that old queen. It's sickening."

"Ah, Lavos, the scapegoat of the ignorant," Ramezia sang. "If you truly believe that, then we have nothing further to discuss." She snapped her fingers, and there was a brilliant flash of pink light that crystallized around us into solid walls of magic. The spell boxed us in on all sides; Ayla hammered fruitlessly on the transparent surface.

"Hey! Let us out!"

"Drats, a prism barrier!" Melchior cursed.

Ramezia cackled richly. "Ahaha! Stay right there, little humans, and watch my beautiful spell come to fruition."

"No thanks," Frog said, not impressed, and when he struck the magic glass with Masamune, it shattered into a million harmless motes that fell to the floor like confetti. We charged at once, racing up the steps surrounding the fountain while Magus jumped straight over it, his cape flaring after him like a set of great bat wings. Mishu followed him, gliding up to the platform and flanking the sorceress.

"Give it up, Ramezia!" Marle issued our ultimatum while the rest of us inched around the sides, blocking her escape. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the unnerving thrum of the Mammon Machine.

_'The necklace, the necklace! Get it!'_ the hot voice spurred me on, yet I held back. Ramezia surveyed her predicament with a distasteful cluck. "Tch, meddling humans... If you won't behave like proper guests, I'll have to ask you to leave."

Melchior climbed up the steps behind us, petitioning, "Ramezia, that's enough. Please don't pursue this any further. Is not all life precious? Would your people truly condone the extermination of an entire race? Please don't make us resort to fighting for our survival. This need not end in violence."

"Old man right!" Ayla backed him up. "Fardons good people. Humans can be good, too. If we talk, no need to fight."

Ramezia retreated a step, shaking her head and clutching her necklace. "No, you can't understand... I'll never give up..." she said, her voice cracking into tears as a mad, raving screech effervesced to the surface. _"I'll never give up until you know the enmity this planet holds for you!"_

Then she attacked, white wisps of magic curling off her skin like steam as a strand of plasma balls slid off her arm. She fired them like grapeshot in all directions, scorching anything in their path. That's when things got a little hairy-I should mention that this platform wasn't very big, so with all of us hanging around, it was pretty crowded. Crono threw his back against the wall, Frog and Marle ducked to the floor, and Ayla somersaulted over the first projectile and bounded ahead. The platform's guardrail and a few encompassing structures took the brunt of the attack-a metal rod was knocked across the room like shrapnel. The balls splashed on impact, and Frog winced as he was pelted with some of the residual magic.

Mishu slid around Ramezia's back, avoiding the onslaught and getting in position to kick her knees out. Ramezia whirled, catching Mishu's foot with her own and then throwing her palm up to smash the neiphiti's nose. Mishu leaned back, barely avoiding the swipe, and then Ayla was upon them, making Ramezia eat a vicious fist to the gills that threw the sorceress off her feet and onto the floor.

Ramezia sat up in a beat, not even winded, and that's when she spied Magus standing at the foot of the Mammon Machine, dreamstone pendant in hand. The core gleamed hotly, responding to the interference, and Ramezia's face fell with a stricken look. She screamed in a twisted, disembodied voice that sounded like a drowning devil, **"Get away from there!"**

There was a flash of purple-black, and when I looked closely I saw her necklace radiating this strange _darkness_, like an ultraviolet beacon. Ramezia lashed out, and a shadow of her arm-a giant, phantom, claw-handed _shape_ reached out of the black light towards Magus. The warlock turned slowly, too slowly-beholding this awful black thing about to grab him, his face scrunched up between concentration and consternation-but then there was a blur of white and strawberry blonde and little pink triangles barreling into his side, as if to knock him out of the way. "Magus!"

I'll never know _what_ Marle was thinking. The shadow hand seized her and Magus both, arced back over Ramezia's head and pitched them like straw dolls over the side of the platform and into the well. "Marle!" Frog yelled as he and Crono chased them to the edge of the fountain. There was only enough time for a glimpse of Marle's gaping, shocked expression juxtaposed to Magus's obscenely alarmed one, and then they were both swallowed up in cloak and tumbling limbs and a ripple of liquid rainbow, the vortex barely stirring to their passage.

"Holy shi-" Mishu uttered, but Ramezia cut her off, that demonic, shadowy voice rising over a hellish gale.

_**"Be. Gone."**_

Everything real and solid bent around her, the floor undulating with a shockwave of what I knew in the shadiest part of my mind to be pure Darkness. It struck us all like a bomb blast, tossing us into the air and over the aeonic well after Marle and Magus. My perch was torn out from beneath me-Crono threw up a grasping hand before peeling out of this plane of reality-and the only thing that kept me from falling into the gate after him were my wings. I spun around in dizzy circles, looking for my remaining comrades.

I watched the tail of Ayla's scarf disappear beneath the surface while Mishu beat her wings wildly, her body half-submerged. After a couple of seconds of thrashing she sank too, unable to resist the gate's gravity. I hovered in place as best I could and kept searching, though all I found was Melchior hiding in the niche between the fountain and the platform. Fantastic.

Ramezia paced to the edge of the well and peered down into it with a satisfied smirk. She didn't see Melchior, and she didn't even spare me a glance-I must not have registered as a threat, being a dumb bird and all.

_'Lucca,'_ the cool voice insisted, urgent now. _'The necklace, go.'_

_'You've got to be kidding,'_ I thought back, even as my body betrayed me and dove for it-to hell with it all, I was the only one left to fix this. I had to do _something_, or be damned trying. Ramezia had turned back towards the Mammon Machine, so I had a blind spot to shoot for. I lunged feet-first at her neck, catching the clasp of the necklace in my toes, and Ramezia jerked around, her teeth gritted under a mask of unadulterated wrath. This was it, I thought-she was going to Darkness-punch me so hard I would just explode into little black and red feathers.

Everything unfolded in four, maybe five seconds.

My wings skipped a beat and I fell back, the chain of the necklace going taut as it grabbed Ramezia and tugged her towards the ledge. She was reaching for me, a black spell simmering at her fingertips, but then it looked like my shadow-my _shadow_-jumped out and slapped her in the face. I couldn't make that up. Ramezia dropped the spell, stunned, and inertia carried us over the edge just as the chain snapped.

_'Nooooooo!' __**"Nooooooo!"**_ the Darkness wailed in my ears and in my head as the necklace fell apart, scattering through the air. Ramezia desperately scrambled for the vital piece, throwing herself off the platform. One hand took hold of a useless fistful of diamonds while the other took my leg, and I made a stupid, honking bird yelp as she yanked me down with her-down and down and down into the temporal bath that washed out our sense of time and space.

The last thing I saw was that shard of Darkness vanishing into the gate with a muted _plunk_ after us.

* * *

A/N: Fun fact, that statue exists. I thought that was pretty cool when I first noticed it in the game.  
Guh, you know what? There's too many people in this story whose name starts with M. What about names that start with FFFFFF-oh well.  
The real fun's just ahead. Comments, questions and speculations welcome! Just hunt me down and ask.

Next time: the final battle. _One among you will shortly perish..._


	23. The Storm

**23. The Storm**

I got into a semi-debate with Crono once (in front of all the others, no less) over which of my long running list of experiments were more disastrous than scientific. I think Marle started it by asking, but I can't remember for sure. I do remember the point when Crono tried to count my Telepod as a failure, and at that I had to snap, "Listen buster, the Telepod _worked_."

He made an exasperated pantomime of a clock and tearing a large sheet. _You ripped a hole in the fabric of time!_

"Hey, that hole was already there!" I wasn't trying to sound childish. It was technically true, even if I didn't know that while Marle was getting sucked through a life-sized glitch in inter-dimensional space. Inter-dimensional space is a fascinating tangent to what we would define as 'regular' space. All regular space in all its parallel forms (other dimensions, time vectors, etc.) is connected by this interspace-a singularity that can function as both an origin and destination to a dimensional jump at once, allowing instantaneous warps if... I'm rambling again, aren't I?

Anyway, a time gate doesn't actually traverse inter-dimensional space, but when it gets large or unstable enough it can default to it, and to conserve the universal balance of matter and energy, travelers will regress to the origin plane at the temporal point of least resistance, which is usually the End of Time but in our case with Ramezia's aeonic well was the median of space-time delineated by all local planetary gates. Does that make sense?

...Maybe it's easier to just tell you what happened.

There's nothing quite like waking up from a trip through a dreamlike stream of time's subconscious to the cold, dark, crushing depth one can only find a hundred feet beneath the ocean. I've had buckets of ice thrown on me in bed (Crono is a jerk) that were more enjoyable, yet as shocked as I was by the saltwater that instantly arrested me, nothing surprised me more than the white-hot blink of teleportation magic that turned the sea and sky upside-down and dropped me on top of the waves.

I was tossed over the turbulent surface like a piece of misbegotten laundry for over a minute, thinking only of how much it would suck to drown after everything that's happened, but then my feet finally grasped something solid. I flopped my way onto a piece of land that felt more like quicksand but might as well have been heaven, gasping like a big dumb bird choking on a fish-which I then realized I was. Once I finished retching, I found myself staring at the tiny carp that had been lodged in my throat. Before I could dwell on which was more absurd-that I had inadvertently swallowed a whole fish in the turmoil of time travel or that carp were freshwater fish so it was impossible to find one in the ocean, much less choke on it-our locale dawned on me.

We had reached the shore of... somewhen. I spun around and counted the heads of my friends, who were likewise dragging themselves out of the waves. Muddy sand stretched out to our sides, some rocks built up to a steep drop a little ways ahead, a mountain was obscured by murky clouds in the distance, a frothing expanse of water was behind us, and all around was a blustery storm, the rain drumming a sloppy tattoo on the beach. It was midday, although the precise hour-much less date-was imperceptible.

Ayla was beating the water out of her lungs while Marle coughed a little more discreetly, Crono patting her shoulder. Frog was slicking back his mussed-up, moss-colored hair and making sure the Masamune was secure. Mishu burst out of the surf like a bat flushed out of a cave with a grenade, spitting and cursing as usual. Magus flitted onto the nearest rock without moving a step, light shuddering around him as he shrugged off the after-image of his last spell. So, he had just saved us from another watery grave. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was developing a magnanimous streak.

Our soggy reunion was curtailed by another arrival. Ramezia washed in on the next wave, lithely anchoring herself to the beach as the tide peeled away from her elegant form. She rose to her feet in the middle of our group and threw around a furious, accusing look, clutching her naked breast.

"You... you _cretins_!" _Cretins_? Was that the best insult she had? Can't these villainous types come up with more original lines? Three different pointy and lethal objects were brandished in her direction, but Ramezia's venomous gaze landed solely on me. "Where is it?"

Oh, right, uh... that necklace. The one I sort of botched taking from her. I didn't light on Crono's shoulder out of any self-preservation instinct, really. Ramezia raised her arm at us, dark energy sizzling in the palm of her hand, and Crono held up the Rainbow in a defensive stance.

"You mean this?" Magus answered before another fight broke out. He had strolled across the beach and fished a glinting scrap of Darkness out of the sand at such a leisurely pace he might as well have been on vacation hunting for seashells. I just couldn't believe that necklace had turned up so quickly and easily after being dumped in the ocean with the rest of us-I mean, what were the odds of that?

_'Yes! The necklace!'_ a little black voice rejoiced. _'Tell him you want to keep it!'_

_'She can't speak, remember?'_

_'Gah, stupid bird! Why do you keep being useless?'_

Ramezia narrowed a baleful look at Magus, who was turning the stone over in his hand like a trick coin, smirking at his game. "You..." For a moment I thought she was going to say 'cretin' again, but suddenly a bit of that regal eloquence returned. "You haven't a clue what to do with that. It belongs to me-it's chosen me. Give it back and I might allow you to live a few moments longer than the rest of your mongrelous race."

Wait, is 'mongrelous' an actual word? That can't be a word. The first thing I'm doing when all this is over is finding a dictionary and flogging Ramezia's dead body with it. I think the hardcover one my family keeps in the attic would make a nice headstone.

The second thing would probably be to find a psychiatrist who didn't think flippancy in the face of danger was a lousy psychological defense, but I don't think anyone could blame me for going a little crazy under the circumstances. I recall saying something supremely tactless and demoralizing in the cockpit of the Epoch moments before we drove it nose-first into certain doom (probably about dying horribly and pointlessly) but everyone forgave me anyway. Luckily birds can't talk.

"Not a clue, huh?" Magus toyed with her, closing his fingers around the dark trinket. "It's a gamble, then. I wonder what would happen if I did this...?"

My feathers ruffled with a black wind as the voice in my head pleaded, _'No no no, don't destroy it!'_

Ramezia had only managed a halting step forward when Magus clenched his fist, crushing the stone with an audible crackle of shadow magic. He then demonstratively brushed the ultraviolet dust off his gloves, letting the remains dissipate in the storm.

_'Gaaaaaah...!'_ I couldn't help feeling satisfied by that wail of defeat.

_'It's okay. This doesn't change anything,'_ consoled the cool voice.

I want to say Ramezia looked angry, but that word really isn't strong enough. I had never seen anyone _shake_ with raw contempt like that before. A pitch aura glistened over her blighted skin, and she stamped her foot hard enough to make the atmosphere rattle with a percussive chorus, like striking a titan's cymbal. We cringed beneath lightning so close it sheared the foam off the waves. **"You insolent dog! That was a piece of the mother earth. Now I'll never hear her voice again. Your ignorance and disrespect know no bounds. If I can't bind you with darkness, I'll crush you with the sea!"**

Ramezia's entire form shimmered like a mirage as her incantation began. "Ramezia, stop!" Frog bid her one last time, as if her retaliation could be staved by a voice of reason-I think Frog knew it was futile as soon as he opened his mouth. "Calm down, you crazy bitch!" Mishu wasn't helping, either.

"_A'kest esto espiere..._ Come, tsunami warden! Serpent of the abyss!" the sorceress shouted with a flourish, her arm outstretched towards an intangible heaven. "God of the sea, _Leviathan_!"

Three ethereal orbs inscribed with esoteric runes swooped out of thin air, enveloping Ramezia in a transient void. Just as she disappeared completely, our feet were pulled out from beneath us by an ominous quake. "Look!" Ayla pointed out to sea, where we saw something incredible: a funnel of water rising above the waves, large enough to swallow a boat. It reared up like a cobra, and then with an ear-splitting shriek the water broke, revealing a massive dragon. Its streamlined head was framed with spiky fins and its long, slender body was clad in pearly rainbow scales. When it opened its beak-like maw and screamed at us, the sea parted with an explosive gust, opening up the beach and leaving us exposed to its wrath.

Marle covered her ears and shrank from the summoned beast. "_This_ is that sea serpent?"

"Leviathan..." Magus granted it only the respect of a name before unhitching a rod from his belt. At a flick of the wrist, the ordinary stick extended into a long pole and sprouted a wicked steel blade. Once his enchanted scythe was out, we knew Magus meant business-although I'm positive he only prefers such a large and unwieldy weapon because it makes him look like the grim reaper. Psh, theatrics.

The sea serpent rushed in, the shallows collapsing in its wake and bringing a wall of water to bear on us. Once again I lost my perch to a force of nature as the surge swallowed our group in one gulp and drove everyone to the rocks. I barely took off before getting swept away, and when I skimmed the water for signs of my friends I saw that Mishu had saved herself with her own wings. Magus jumped free next, his scythe tearing through his conjured bubble of air and towards the monster's neck. Leviathan doubled around the swipe and swung back, its tail dredging up a sharp squall as it dragged the water-one that knocked Frog off the rock he had just found. Magus darted up and out of the way, sailing on a telekinetic breeze.

Rather than clinging to land, Ayla went straight for the kill, charging out of the surf and up the ridges of Leviathan's back as if it were a flight of stairs. She met Mishu at the head and teamed up, a fist and a foot claiming each of the monster's reptilian eyes. Mishu's claws scratched its cheek as it swung aside-and into the brunt of Ayla's attack. Her uncanny blow punched out the lens of its eye with a gush of egg-like pulp, yet the monster's backlash caught Ayla by one of its crowning spines, tearing open her leg and knocking her down with such momentum the water didn't even break the fall-the splash sounded more like a bone-smashing _thud_.

Magus's next strike was with magic, and he flung a bolt of lightning at Leviathan's flank just as I was trying a spell on the other side. Neither attack succeeded, my flames splattering into nothing while flecks of electricity ricocheted off its scales without even leaving a mark. I ducked mid-flight to avoid getting speared by a rogue bolt.

By then the tidal surge was receding, giving everyone room to stand, although that only gave Leviathan more open targets. Crono and Frog barely got their bearings when the monster pinned its remaining eye on them, charging up a magnesium flare on the tip of its tongue. The spell it unleashed was a beam of glaring white energy that hit the beach like a bombshell, scattering debris and people alike. The swordsmen jumped clear of the blast while I dropped to cover Ayla, who was lying inert in her own crater. I could only cast a fickle flame shield in time to save us both from being incinerated-the surrounding sand was instantly vitrified into a brittle plaster.

A chunk of ice clashed against the side of the monster's head, and Leviathan whirled towards Marle. She had taken position on a rocky outcrop and was loading her crossbow, yet Mishu intercepted the incoming beast with a spell of her own, buffeting the monster with a blast of wind that only made it flinch.

A shadow bolt met the same fate as Magus's lightning one, and I was about to kick him upside the head before the warlock killed us all with friendly fire. "Damnit, it's impervious to magic!" Magus informatively cursed. I wondered about those scales, which shone just like the magic-resistant alloy Melchior was able to craft from the Rainbow Shell...

Frog tested the Masamune, which glanced off Leviathan's armored hide just as well as our magic had. He was nearly buried by the monster's careening girth, yet fortunately the sand was soft enough to mould him into a ditch while Leviathan plowed right over him like a rolling pin. Frog clambered free and regrouped by Crono's side. "My blade 'tis no use, either!"

"Well damnit, it has to have a weak spot somewhere!" Mishu swore in return. Right then Crono stood up, and I could tell by his intense expression that he had a really, really, really stupid idea. He held the Rainbow back and ran ahead, straight into Leviathan's path.

"Crono!" Marle cried as Leviathan greeted him with a gaping hiss. Crono waved his arms, flagging it down, and Leviathan pounced like a snake on a hapless rat, wide jaws scooping Crono up before he had a chance to change tack. "Crono!"

We watched in dumbstruck horror as the monster took our _impeccably moronic_ friend in its mouth and tossed its head back to devour him. Frog raised the Masamune with a wretched yell, ready to cleave Crono out of that serpent's gullet if necessary, although he checked that impulse once Leviathan started to flip the hell out-when we looked closely, we saw why.

Crono had the tip of the Rainbow jammed into the roof of its mouth, and his heels braced against the serpent's mandible. All we could see was a little red-headed blur as Leviathan whipped back and forth, trying to dislodge its prickly meal. I couldn't tell whether the whiplash or the guillotine-jaws were going to kill Crono first, but we weren't left in suspense much longer. I heard the whistling of magic and glimpsed a bright flash in the serpent's mouth, as if it were charging another energy beam-but then Leviathan convulsed savagely, its whole body racked with what I suddenly recognized was a lightning spell.

The monster screamed and thrashed, kicking sand, surf and yellow sparks everywhere and forcing us to run for whatever slippery cover we had. It continued to eat throat-scorching particles for lunch as it death-rolled down the beach in ever-frantic spirals. Just as it dashed itself against some jagged rocks, it spit up a boy-shaped wad of phlegm that soared over our heads and landed flat in the sand. Leviathan curled in on itself with a gurgling moan, steam issuing from its every pore, and within seconds the entire beast transmuted into aquamarine smoke, each scale fading into wisps of expired magic. The unearthly serpent passed from our plane of existence without a trace, leaving only dazed and battered spectators.

Mishu settled in one of the beast's mammoth ruts, surveying the damage. "Holy hell, was that a real esper?"

_An esper..._ I was too astonished to consider it. Marle scurried over to our next concern. "Crono! Are you okay?"

She knelt over her boyfriend, who was laying perfectly still and supine on the ground, the Rainbow sticking out of the sand where it had fallen nearby. Frog crept close as well, watching for a sign of life, and I might have joined them if I weren't rooted to the spot with dread. Marle shook his shoulder. "Crono? Wake up, say something!"

Crono responded-barely-holding up one languid finger. _Give me a minute._

Marle huffed with relief and punched his arm while Frog burst out laughing. "Haha! Crono, you are the luckiest fool to walk the earth." Frog just validated what I had been telling the idiot for years. _'Thank you,'_ I meant to say, so emphatically it passed as a loud warble instead. Crono sat up and shook his head, grinning like a dope and blinking the spots from his eyes. He looked a ripe mess, the spikes of his hair pasted together with mud and snake slime-it was amazing he didn't electrocute _himself_ before Leviathan was finished. _I can't believe that worked._

Yeah, me neither. Damn idiot, giving us all heart attacks. "Hey!" Mishu barked, grabbing our attention. She stood over our other injured party member and said, "Forgetting someone?"

I fluttered ahead of Marle, landing by Ayla's side. Her leg was bleeding profusely, although the twitch she gave when our healer's hands fell over her was reassuring. "UuuoooaaaaAhhh..." Ayla groaned vigorously as magic stitches turned a deep cut into a sore memory-just another scar to garnish her brutal trophy collection. Ayla recovered as she always did-with gusto, even as Marle begged her to quit squirming and hold still.

"Uuooaaoo! Ayla fine! Just hit head, ow." To make her point, Ayla rubbed the fuzzy knot on her scalp, flexed her limbs and bounced to her feet. "Ayla good, ready! Where monster? Want fight!"

She got her wish almost immediately-and twofold. First, Magus's voice cracked across the beach. "Ramezia...!"

We spun around and there she was, right on the shore where we left her, stepping out of a black fold in reality with a vexed and aghast expression. "They defeated Leviathan...?" She wouldn't even address us.

The next voice, however, did. It was booming, brash, ugly, and unmistakable over a hundred yards, even through the rain and wind.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

We turned back the other way and discovered the leader of the Mystics in all his heavy-footed glory, swaggering onto a boulder on the outskirts of the beach. "I thought I heard a ruckus. You look like a bunch of drowned rats! Heheh."

Ayla bared her fists. "Heckran!"

He feigned an aching heart. "Miss me already? I was afraid you'd forgotten all about me."

Right away our party split, Magus jetting over to the sorceress-the greater of two evils, necessarily. Mishu followed suit, calling over her shoulder, "We're going for Ramezia!"

"Okay!" Marle confirmed. "We'll join you in a minute!"

Heckran grunted, looking slighted. "Huh. Just a minute? Pretty confident. And I wanted you to meet all my friends, too..." He clapped his hands and another Mystic jumped at the cue, this one light-footed and hawk-faced-that akio, Darwin. Sparing us any pleasantries, Darwin stood atop a tall rock, turned and waved a signal to something obscured below-a big something, something that made the puddles quiver and every grain of sand tremble around our toes. We heard metal grinding and snapping alongside a primal, sonorous roar, and then a bulky, rust-colored, bone-studded cranium reared up over the side of the cliff-followed by a saw-toothed jaw, a muscular neck, a sturdy trunk and a set of powerful legs that hoisted the monstrosity twenty feet over our heads. It shook all over, the broken iron chains of its manacles battering the surrounding rocks and littering the wasted beach with rubble and dust.

"Oh... my... God..." Marle drawled, flabbergasted at the apparition that was either a huge anachronism or a huge nightmare. "Tyranno!" Ayla hollered, identifying it beyond belief. Okay, fine, Heckran somehow secured the service of a giant man-eating dinosaur. That was... remotely plausible, given the gates, even though trying to picture fitting a tyrannosaur through one gave me a headache (do you push it in head-first or...? You know what, nevermind.)

"What's another overgrown lizard, aye...?" Frog said wearily, meant to encourage us. Crono picked up his sword with a harried grimace. _You've got to be kidding._

Frog was right, though-after taking down the god of the sea, what was a pesky little tyranno? We've beaten those before. I was sure that even combined with Heckran, we could handle those forces... but then the rest appeared. They showed up in droves-gargoyles, imps, rolypolys, goblins, ogans, henches, gnashers, winged apes, nagas, weevils, and even a freaking kilwala. They peeked over the rocks on every side, surrounding us with ravenous yellow eyes, wooden clubs and snarling muzzles. We could hear claws and roughshod swords sharpening on rocks, and helmets clacking over a low-hanging murmur that made the misty air teem with bloodlust. Believe me when I say there was over a hundred Mystics altogether; I have a photographic memory. Maybe a hundred doesn't sound like a lot. Well, it is. And there were only five of us.

Heckran's loud, sardonic laugh carried over the excited din. "Haw haw haw! You're on our turf now, humans!"

"Why are you doing this?" Marle shouted across the impending battlefield. "Heckran, listen! You can't trust Ramezia! If she gets her way, you'll all die, too! Don't you see that?"

The leader rubbed his snout with a dismissive snort, either not hearing, not believing or bluffing on both counts. "Like I'm gonna listen to some stinking human! This is what you get for standing in our way!" Heckran waved the horde forward with a determined bellow-the same battle cry that condemned his nephew days before. "DEATH TO THE MYSTICS' ENEMIES!"

They charged, all of them, every single damn one at once-and the tyranno too, thundering down to meet us on the beach. It was like standing at the bottom of a ravine and watching a dam full of knives and bowling balls break. There wasn't any time to think or talk it out; we jumped right in. I took flight like my tail was on fire-and it kind of was, once I routed the initial wave of roly riders with a flame bath. The spell didn't stick through the mud and rain, but it was enough to scatter the rollers and spook the imps in line behind them, who flinched long enough for Crono and Frog to use their heads as springboards.

Crono catapulted onto the back of a ape, cinched one of its wings like a rein and rode the brute like a crazed horse, the Rainbow hacking through the weevil and gargoyle that tried to pull him down. Once the ape got sick of the joyride, it reached over its shoulders, grabbed Crono and threw him bodily at a hench, who in turn knocked over a naga-ette and three gnashers like a row of bloody dominos. Frog caught the ape in its moment of hubris, the Masamune splitting it from pelvis to sternum before it could beat its breast twice.

Ayla barreled headlong into a pair of nagas. She somersaulted over the sticky webs they spit from their throat glands, planted a foot in each of their faces and then crossed her legs, bashing their skulls together like a couple of coconuts. Marle cemented a third naga in ice long enough for Ayla to punch a hole through its flash-frozen torso. Never say teamwork wasn't our forte.

I headed for the tyranno, hoping to divert it long enough for my friends to clean out the rest of Heckran's army. I swooped low across its path, dusting a line of ogans with fire that made them squeal and haphazardly fling their torched clubs at the backs of the goblins' heads. The goblins swung around with a knuckle-cracking rebuttal, but then thought better of it when they caught their comrades scrambling out of a trench of sheer flame, the hair on their backs smoldering. Man, I love fire magic.

The tyranno backpedaled before the conflagration, churning up enough mud beneath its feet to bury the blaze (and three imps.) Before it could right itself I darted past, singeing its nose and provoking the giant lizard to snap and chase me.

This was all in the first thirty seconds. I couldn't tell you how much longer the battle dragged on, except that I lost more feathers than I could count between belts of misfired magic and a set of big, hungry incisors. My only advantage was that I could fly circles around that oversized proto-chicken before it could put one dumb foot in front of the other, yet I knew that even my best-focused spells were mere mosquito bites on its thick, wet hide. While turning for another dive I spied Darwin sitting stoically on a ledge, bow and arrow drawn. I wondered if I should try to pick him off real qui-_whuff_, the tyranno's next snap claimed one of my kite-like tail feathers as a gust of its rancid breath nudged me off course, and I stopped worrying about less immediate threats.

Ayla took a gnasher by the tail and was swinging it around like a makeshift flail. It bludgeoned two imps and a hench into submission before getting its head chopped off by an ogre's scimitar, which Frog then met blade-to-blade. The Masamune eventually disinvested the ogre of its sword hand-and then its face.

Crono staggered clear of four gargoyles he had just slain and locked eyes with Heckran, who was standing on a hilltop, his arms crossed with a domineering smirk. They exchanged a few silent, lethal words in a single glance, and then Crono marched through the throng of Mystics and straight towards the water dragon with an all-too familiar look that said, _One asskicking, coming right up._

Heckran jumped down from his vantage point and shoved aside any Mystics that had strayed between him and his next opponent with a wall of magic water, like parting a curtain. "Com'ere boy," he growled, and Crono squared off against him, never wasting his breath on taunts.

Frog spun in a wide circle, his sword singing a whirlwind of death that sucked in two gnashers and a couple of diablos and severed an ogre at the shins. Marle stuck a crossbow bolt in the ogre's eye before it got the idea to hit the ground. There was a growing swath of bodies between the tyranno and my friends that was definitely telling me we were doing well-if participating in the mass slaughter of armed and disgruntled Mystics was what we could call "doing well." I wondered how Mishu and Magus were faring with Ramezia-their confrontation got carried away behind a rocky ridge, closer to the sea.

Heckran caught the Rainbow between his scissor-like claws, but Crono twisted it free, feinted for the dragon's arms, and then his legs, and then swiped Heckran upside the chin when he hopped back to save his knees. I'll call Crono an idiot and say he doesn't know jack about anything all day long, but I will never, ever say he doesn't know how to fight with that sword. Frog's technique is nimble and powerful-he could get the drop on a mountain and chop it in twain with the Masamune (I've seen it), but what Crono does is fight fast-and _smart_. I'm pretty sure that of the three percent of the brain an average human utilizes, Crono spends two of those percents solely when fighting (and sleeps off the other one.)

Still, Heckran's strength and size were formidable-fighting him was one of those cases where one good hit would be all it took to lose. Heckran nursed his split lip with one hand and lashed out with the other, nearly knocking Crono's head off. He dropped to avoid the swing, but then was caught in the mine-blast of water that followed. Heckran laughed as Crono's feet were kicked up over his head, and he fell to one side-and then the other, and then again, getting rattled by one water bomb after another. The dragon paused the bombardment long enough to spring on him while he was down, claws and fangs bared front and center, yet Crono countered with a sonic slash that at least cleared three feet between him and the dragon, if it didn't knock some of Heckran's teeth out.

I had just woven a ribbon of fire between the tyranno's legs for it to dance around when something grazed me-no, _pierced_ me, or that's what it felt like. It was a blood-curdling shock that made my vision warp out a moment. I shook myself back to reality, blinked the red haze out of my eyes, drummed up a stable lift on my wings and then checked over my shoulder to find what the hell just blindsided me. I glimpsed a strange, fiery projectile plummeting over the cliff and out of sight, like a miniature comet. I shrugged it off; that was a close call, whatever it was. But then came the most gut-wrenching sound I'd ever heard in my life, and that's after nearly getting my eardrums burst by the six-megaton wail of a giant pissed-off space tick.

Crono _screamed_.

Now, Crono doesn't even _talk_ unless it's strictly necessary or to be a smart alek, and even then it's in a key just below conversation level. You'd be lucky to get a soft swear out of him if he dropped a brick on his foot, and he didn't even cry when Lavos ripped him apart on the molecular level, which had to hurt like holy burning hell-he told me so later. So you can only imagine how nerve-racking it was to hear his guttural, keening scream over the cacophony of thrashing Mystics and pouring rain. He simply clutched his chest and dropped to his knees, face hitting the dirt as the Rainbow bounced away uselessly. I couldn't even see what struck him-I had just missed it.

At that same moment Ayla froze in her tracks, shooting a feral look across the field that would have put a grown man six feet under. She fixated on the akio on a far ledge, who lowered his bow and tipped back an intrigued brow-both acknowledging a crime and daring Ayla to do something about it. Her wild visage turned vengeful in a heartbeat, and Ayla's mad sprint was enough to get Darwin up and packing. I'll never see a human being break a speed record like that again; Darwin hadn't even shouldered his bow by the time Ayla was upon him. She flew up that ledge and punted that bird so hard and fast that-I swear to every field of science I'm not exaggerating-his head popped off his shoulders and sailed fifty yards up and out, like a damn football.

With Darwin out of the picture and the bulk of the Mystic forces starting to thin, Frog and Ayla honed in on the tyranno, granting me the relief I needed to take off and try to help Crono. Heckran sauntered over to his prone form, clucking with malicious mirth. "Tsk tsk, what's the matter, boy? Getting a little faint of heart?"

I raced in, aiming a fireball at Heckran's big ugly mug, but instead of casting a spell it felt more like dry heaving. I stumbled and veered away, my initiative lost. What just happened? My _mahna pool_ didn't feel depleted...

Heckran tangled his claws in Crono's thick hair and gruffly yanked him off the ground-he gave a strangled yelp that made my blood run cold. There weren't any visible wounds, but Crono could scarcely catch his breath, and the arm that reached for his sword was pale and trembling. I lighted on Heckran's elbow and tried another, harsher spell, one intended to blow up in the dragon's face. Nothing happened-he didn't even notice. _What was going on?_

Wait a second-that thing that nearly hit me! Could it have been a mute spell? And Darwin's arrow-if he didn't shoot Crono, then...?

The will to fight grit between his teeth, Crono grasped the Rainbow and weakly hefted it against him, but Heckran lifted one blunt foot and kicked it aside. "You..." the dragon seethed, nostrils flaring with ripe hate. "I can smell my nephew's blood on you!" He then raised his other arm and delivered a spiteful slap across Crono's face, knocking him to the ground with a short spray of blood. "Heh! You disgusting ape... Is that all the fight left in ya?"

_I was going to kill this bastard if I had to peck him apart bit by bit._ However, as soon as I lunged, I slipped and kissed the ground. Everything felt weird and wrong; I couldn't get my act together. I watched Crono pick himself up in pieces, shaking and disoriented, purplish blood streaming down his cheek and neck-blotting bright red hair and light blue tunic with macabre ink. Heckran loomed over him, claws poised for one final strike, his revenge revolting and terrifying to behold at once.

"Goodbye, hu-"

_Shink._

Heckran twisted a long look of shock down at the crystal lance jutting from his gut. For a minute the three of us were transfixed by what looked like a spear of blue quartz as wide as a fist, its facets laced with rivulets of crimson. Heckran tried to wrap his hand-and mind-around the thing, but was interrupted by another shard, this one stabbing through his jugular with a sickening crunch. His countenance washed blank, his eyes lolled into his head and he toppled backwards, skewered by glacial spikes that cracked and crumpled along the seams where his blood seeped hot.

Standing behind him was Marle, panting and rigid with adrenaline-fury, her arm held level with her cold mark. Holy hell, score one for the ice princess. Her stony mask melted as soon as Heckran quit breathing, and she rushed to Crono's aid in a tearful fit. "Crono!"

He sat up, embracing her and the curative magic that sapped away fatigue in a shower of cool green-blue. "Are you okay? What happened?" Just what I wanted to know-but there I sat, useless. Crono stared at her with clear eyes that seemed to just wake from a horrible dream. _I don't..._

The earth shook again; the tyrannosaur fell, its titanic wail a death knell to the morale of the remaining Mystics. I watched Ayla boost Frog into the air, where he took his sword and drove it down between the dinosaur's eyes. The twenty Mystics still standing tucked their tails between their legs and fled for the hills, tripping over the motley spread of squished, burnt and dismembered fellows. You could hardly see the sand for all the bodies.

"Is everyone all right?" Frog trudged over to us, sticky with sweat and gore that mingled with the rain like paint smearing down a canvas.

Marle tucked some unraveled strands of hair behind her ear and gave a flimsy nod, which Crono mirrored. "I think so..."

Ayla's eyes were glazed with an unbidden thought that had barely congealed when Frog opened his mouth first, cutting her off. "Ramezia!"

We didn't need to finish that thought; we got up and ran to the place we last found the sorceress, hoping we weren't too late. Down the beach and around the bend we met the critical group, with Mishu and Magus more-or-less standing at odds around Ramezia. The wreckage was daunting: rocks scorched black, sand turned to glass, and potholes filled with brackish oil. Mishu was squinting through a busted eye, she favored her right leg, and one of her wings was bent at a disagreeable angle. Magus's cape was rent down one side in a frayed crescent, his pasty arms were rife with scrapes and burns, and a sliver of blood was trickling down his brow.

And Ramezia... was broken. She glared flintily at her attackers, hunched over, wheezing and oozing dark ichor that stained the beach an unholy scarlet. The fire of Darkness had dimmed, leaving her eyes as grey as the clouds and bleeding out tears that faded before they even touched the ground. Willowy fingers dug into a shoulder that was running every color but blue, the flesh rendered into gangrenous molasses. A rake had been drawn across her back, and a sickle down her side. Mishu held back like a trapper watching an injured wolf, and Magus just stood there, unassumingly proud, explaining nothing that the cursed humors running down the blade of his scythe couldn't say on their own.

Ramezia saw us coming, and greeted her apparent execution squad with a wry smile. Her voice was dark and viscous, like tar. "Humph... heh, ha ha... this won't... stop the spell... the Mammon Machine will see that my dream is fulfilled..."

"Hang on!" Marle commanded as she barged through our shabby ranks, and it took a second to realize she was talking to everyone-Ramezia included. Crono tried to snag her parka but she jerked past, kneeling by the sorceress's side. Ramezia made a gravelly noise in her throat, but no longer had either the strength or the willpower to recoil from the impetuous princess. We all watched in fretful astonishment as Marle took her arm, closed her eyes-and prayed.

"What are you doing, you fool?" Magus boomed, but Marle was beyond listening. In seconds a healing wind blew in, radiant specks of mercy percolating through the sand and rain. The gentle blanket of water magic overwhelmed Ramezia, and her ravaged body mended itself in moments. The slick and healthy texture to her skin returned, the blood was rinsed into insubstantial glitter and the rich glow to her eyes was restored, whereupon she gazed widely at her savior, vexed and bedazzled.

"Why...? Why, you..."

You see, Marle has this... thing, where she forgives people. Indiscriminately. I don't even know where to begin-actually, you want the biggest example? She's the one who convinced us to let Magus join our team in the first place. I can't explain how, but her justifications always sound convincing at the time.

"Because, I refuse to believe that the mother of someone as nice and sweet as Pillie can be a monster." I could tell she meant every word from the bottom of her limitless heart. "I know you're not evil, just like we humans aren't evil, either! Are we really all that horrible?"

Ramezia's expression softened, her eyes brimming with watery rue. Something Marle said seemed to get through to her-just not the right part. "Pillea...? How do you know my daughter?" Like flipping a light switch, her mien darkened and her tone boiled to a fever pitch. "Where did you take her?"

Marle blinked, taken aback. "W-Wait, what? I didn't-"

She was too close and we were too far to do anything about it-with a flare of Darkness, a black vortex blossomed around the two, just as Ramezia reached over and ensnared Marle in her shadow's grappling net. **"You, you'll give me back my daughter!"** Not even a squeak passed her lips before Marle fell through the wormhole and out of reach of sound and light. She disappeared with the sorceress, who left nothing behind but a tendril of nether-smoke.

Crono skidded over the spot a moment too late, and he threw a frantic and fruitless look around the beach while Frog scuffed the sand and cursed, "Tch, damnit! Marle!"

Mishu gaped at what wasn't left of our friend. "Did you see that? That psychobitch just teleported out! How the fuck are we gonna find them?"

Magus crouched over the ground, his finger drawing an invisible circle where Ramezia had forged her escape. "I can track them. The scent of the spell is faint, but..."

"Do you have enough magic left to follow them?" Frog asked, noting the wizard's disheveled state.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Magus retorted, juggling overconfidence and indifference.

Crono passed him a stricken, pleading look while Mishu stamped her foot and raved, "The hell it doesn't, you big spewing fa-!"

All of a sudden Ayla howled, loud and long and with a touch of feral grief that chilled even Mishu's fierce temper. We looked for the source and found her yards away-she hadn't followed us to Ramezia, but rather taken off in pursuit of what we were too blind with haste to notice. We dropped what we were arguing about (some of us more reluctantly than others) and ran back across the ruined field, catching up with Ayla on the edge of a cliff that marked the end of the beach and the start of a rolling plain.

I was the last one there, before Magus and Mishu; I watched everyone react to it before I could see it for myself. Ayla didn't explain a thing; she simply threw herself down the cliff and out of sight. Frog stopped short and uttered an oath that the rain couldn't translate. When Crono looked over the precipice he cringed, made a throttled sound redolent of panic and jumped down after Ayla. "Shit, what now?" the neiphiti griped.

When I thought about it-and it's a good thing I took a second to think before looking-I recalled that weird fireball that grazed me during the battle, and how it had fallen exactly where Ayla led us (photographic memory, yep.) Judging by the way my magic was stunted, I suspected a subversive brand of magic, and had started to figure it was one of Darwin's arrows.

Well, it was-there was just a body stuck on the end of it. Suddenly I was staring slack-jawed (beaked?) at a human form thirty feet below, its back flush against the top of a particularly flat boulder. It was stapled to the rock by tethers of solid ice that converged at its middle, where an arrow had pierced the abdomen. A puddle of blood dyed its purple hair and backlit the ice with clashing red. It was a girl, cold and pale, wearing my orange tunic and dark pants and yellow scarf, and just out of her unconscious reach was a chipped pair of glasses.

"Lucca!" Frog cried out as he tore down the cliff and to her side, and then I realized that what I was looking at-that mannequin sprawled and broken over the rocks and stuck with a pin of ice like a damn insect under glass-was a corpse, the fresh death already frozen over.

I was looking at a dead body.

_I was looking at my own dead body._

* * *

A/N: Recommended reading: Kasienda's "Chrono Trigger Retold," which got me thinking about inter-dimensional space and such.

A nasty computer virus set me back a couple of days, but luckily everything's been more-or-less restored and I'm back on track. I was hoping to finish this before the new year, but ah well, it's still cool.

So, Happy New Year, everyone! Next time: a tough decision.


	24. Quietus

**24. Quietus**

_'For those who believe, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not believe, no explanation is possible.'_

So said a famous priest that lived in Guardia around the fifth century AD. He was a man my mother quoted often when she wanted to shut me up on a pretentious note. I adored my mom-I would've done anything for her-but there was always one major point of contention that kept me from being as close to her as I was to Dad. Guess what it was over. Just guess.

I've told you God and Science don't get along, and my mom was the religious type. She did the church song and dance. She read 'the good book.' She had a trite, God-inspired non sequitur for every situation. It drove me up the wall sometimes, but the heavens forbid I make a smartass, irreverent remark about the Powers that Be, lest Mom go on a tirade about how she didn't raise some godless heathen. One of my favorite comebacks was that 'religion' is just another word for well-organized superstition. Sometimes Dad played mediator by telling me to go to my room, as if I couldn't hear the oaths Mom was uttering in regards to my immortal soul from there.

Yet, despite all that... I wish I hadn't been so proud and obstinate about it. I can't retract my beliefs (or the lack thereof, in this case), but if I only had the gall to be honest with Mom, when she asked if I believed in the existence of a god... I would've told her that I can't be certain. If such an omnipotent yet mysterious being truly existed, there would never be enough evidence to prove or disprove it. All you can do is quibble over the finer points until you lose sight of the big picture, and therein lies the fact of faith-the greatest logical fallacy of all time. _No explanation is possible._

I can't explain the afterlife. Science didn't give me a logical, physics-bound explanation for standing at Cyrus's grave, or Toma's, and chatting it up with ghosts (I was going to chalk it up to 'mass hallucination,' but Robo was a witness as well, and robots can't hallucinate.) Relatively speaking, astrophysics and even time travel make more sense, but there are so many things that shouldn't exist that I've seen with my own eyes, anyway.

For instance, _I was looking at my own dead body._ Knock me over with a feather.

Once I was finished gawking at my misfortune I flew down for a closer look-genuine morbid curiosity, if you will. Crono, Frog and Ayla skidded down the slippery rocks and squatted around the body (holy crap _my body_, my dead body), staring at it with a disquieting lack of direction, much less words. Ayla wore a smoldering mask, Frog seemed reservedly distressed, and Crono's expression was blank-glassy, hollow. He looked petrified, as if that ice bolt had struck him, too-and when I came to think of it, it was rather as if it had.

_That scream... our beast link._ Crono must have felt it snapping like a twig. I started wondering why I kept my beast form, even after getting shot off the side of a cliff, but then I realized that-well, in reality, I _hadn't_. It was then that all the little things I should have noticed before became unnervingly obvious: the dry rain, the airless wind, and the way sounds and voices cast about the rocks and sky without regards for composition, density or distance, as if the world were enclosed in a giant soundproof bubble. I wasn't even sure of my own substance; I could touch the ground, but it almost felt like a formality, like I didn't have to if I didn't want to.

So, this was what it was like to be a ghost. Why a ghost _bird_, though? Was it because that was the guise I was taking at the time of my-my death? Was I going to be stuck as a feathery longneck for the rest of my afterlife? (Here's a weird thought: if Frog had died before his curse was lifted, would his spirit have remained amphibious?) This really sucked.

What bothered me more than anything, however, was that needling, insidious black voice I could scarcely tell apart from my own. _'Your pretty little healer's gone. I think you're _fucked_.'_

Oh no, oh hell no, _that_ was the worst thing-realizing that Marle had been abducted by a zealous psychopath corrupted by the forces of Darkness, and instead of hurrying up to go save her and our planet, my friends were sitting around staring at a useless corpse. Damnit guys, get up and do something!

Frog turned to Ayla and asked with overdue urgency, "What happened?"

The woman sprang to her feet with a burst of vengeful enthusiasm. "Ayla saw! Darwin! Shoot with strange arrow."

"Holy _shit_," Mishu's belated reaction projected from the top of the cliff. Glad she could join us, I guess.

Crono snapped out of it last-_really_ snapped, taking his sword and battering the brittle cage of ice with the hilt. "Grk-Crono! C-Careful..." Frog's feckless objection petered out with a vestige of a croak, and he watched the ice get punched and kicked into a hundred frenzied little pieces. Once broken free, Crono knelt over the body (it, her, _me_-gawd, this was confusing already) and reached under my scarf, feeling for a pulse or a sign of... anything.

Ayla joined him, leaning close and listening for the slightest stir. At length she pulled back and announced, more sober than ever, "Cold, but... still alive."

What. What? I couldn't-after all that-the fall, the ice, _the bloody arrow_-there was no way. Crono's shock mirrored my own, and he tentatively grasped the shaft of the arrow as Ayla suggested, "Maybe pull out?"

Frog opened his mouth to interject, hopefully to the tune of _don't yank that stupid thing out so she bleeds to death for sure_, but then the voice of reason came from above, pithy and callous. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Magus was standing next to Mishu at the top of the cliff, where the line of their concern was drawn. Frog squinted up at him through the rain. "What?"

"It's an ice arrow." No shit? "That ice is probably the only thing keeping her alive right now." I must have been dreaming-since when did _Magus_ care whether I lived or died?

Ayla sat back on her haunches, relinquishing the case to someone hopefully more qualified. "Try magic?"

Frog blanched before the gruesome task. "I-I can't-I don't know healing magic as well as..." The name fell short on his tongue as his gaze fixed on the arrow buried so deeply the blood didn't even have time to run-frost salted the wound. "I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Well then what the fuck?" Mishu asked loudly, generally disgruntled, while Frog put it more delicately. "What are we going to do? We have to pursue Ramezia, but..."

Ayla smashed a loose chunk of ice with her fist. "No leave! We leave, Lucca die. Never leave friend behind!"

"But we have to rescue Marle, too!" Frog argued, duly adamant.

Magus frowned down his nose at us-that same 'you are all pathetic,' mightier-than-thou look he always uses. "You numbskulls are forgetting. That spell hasn't been reversed yet."

Frog nodded grimly. "Right, the _Vitraevos_. The Mammon Machine is still standing, which means..."

"If we don't move our asses and stop it, we're not going to save anybody!" Mishu concluded.

Ayla shook her head fervently, wet blonde locks lashing her brow. "No! Not right! Save everyone, Lucca and Marle too! Not giving up!"

Frog pressed, "We're not arguing with you, Ayla! We're just saying..."

I didn't hear the rest-I'm ashamed to admit I lost focus. It's hard to imagine what could be more fascinating than a discussion over one's own rescue and whether or not it compromised the welfare of the entire world, but something else grabbed my eye and wouldn't let go. A few feet away rested an old hardcover book. I knew before I even got close-it was the _T'torlan_. It must have been thrown from my bag in the impact. It had fallen to an open page, where the pristine ink was unspoiled, even as the tanned paper soaked up every inch of rain. There was no blurring, no smearing, and not even a tiny smudge where mud threatened to splash over the text. It was as if the tome were immune to the elements-which began to explain how it lasted over four hundred years.

It was the design on the page that was captivating, though: an equilateral triangle divided into four segments, underscoring an illustration of a large bird. Its expansive wings and braided tail feathers were rendered in glorious detail, and on the opposite page I could read the translator's cryptic description:

_Fire - Light - Life  
__The Phoenix_

A chill rippled through me along with a heavy boot, which phased through my insubstantial form as if I weren't even there-which I had to remind myself was true. I nonetheless shuffled out of the way as Magus stooped to pick up the book and, after inspecting it thoughtfully, tucked it into his cloak. I was going to (ineffectively) object to essentially _re-stealing_ from me, but that train of thought was brought to a screeching halt by the last voice I expected to hear.

"Shut up! _Just shut up_, damnit!"

I wasn't the only one surprised; everyone dropped their arguments and turned bewildered looks towards the speaker. It was funny. Crono never talked, criticized, commanded or even _suggested_ a damn thing, yet in the event of a real crisis everyone deferred to him. Crono always led by his actions, but this was... different. It wasn't right this time. Nothing felt right. He clenched his fist and ran his other hand through his hair, his frustration almost palpable.

Frog swallowed his last thought and broke the frozen peace first. "Crono..."

Crono shook his head and paced furiously, thinking. Deliberating. I knew what he wanted-it was the same thing his stupid, selfless bravado always demanded. He wanted to save Marle. He wanted to save me. He wanted to save everyone. And he knew he couldn't. Thunder rumbled a weighty reminder; we were running out of time. Finally he stopped, picked up his sword, sheathed it with a decisive click and then spoke again.

"...Frog, Ayla, go with Magus and Mishu. I'll take care of Lucca."

The impulse to scream, 'No, damnit, go after Ramezia! Save the damn world first!' wouldn't have helped and I knew it, even if he _could_ hear me. The damn fool had made up his mind.

Magus made a commendable effort not to sound like he cared as he asked, "Splitting up, huh? And just where will you take her?"

Crono paused, gazing over the featureless horizon. Frog likewise panned a look from the foreboding rock formation to the west to the storm clouds in the east. "I think the Mystics retreated to their base, over towards that mountain. It looks like we're right outside the Heckran Caves. Medina might not be too far from here, but the road's going to be treacherous in this weather."

Ayla protested, "Let Ayla come! No go alone."

Crono shook his head. _No. I can handle this._

Frog gravely counseled, "Crono, if you're sure..." He must have understood that whoever was going after Ramezia was going to need all the help they could get-not to mention the Masamune, which was practically the only thing that could dismantle the Mammon Machine. Crono didn't want to spare any more manpower-and magic power-than necessary.

Mishu scoffed, finding something about this mess horribly amusing. "You think you can save her because of your beast link?"

Crono looked away, regressing into silence-one fraught with too many uncertainties. The neiphiti snickered. "Heh. Maybe. Maybe not. I guess it's just as dangerous for you, either way."

What was that supposed to mean? I didn't want to put Crono in any more danger. It was bad enough that I was responsible for nearly getting him killed by Heckran...

"Are you sure that's what you want to do? She has the blight too, you know. She'll only turn into a fiend later. Maybe the merciful thing is to let her go."

Huh, and I could have gone to rest without worrying any more about that stupid blight. Thanks a lot, Mishu. _'Heh heh, maybe they should listen to her...'_

Ayla treated the notion like a slap to the face, whirling towards the dragon lady with her fists raised. "What you say?"

Magus butted in, leaving no more room for quarreling. "We need to move, _now_."

Crono agreed with a firm nod, and that was all the persuasion Frog and Ayla needed. He then passed the wizard a hard look. "Magus..."

Magus held his gaze for a moment before glancing away with a distasteful cluck, as if he couldn't stomach a generous thought. "Tch. We'll save your stupid princess."

Crono nodded soundly, grateful for the oath regardless. Ayla set her hands on his shoulders, forcing eye contact-and his resolve. "Crono! Take care, be safe. We bring Marle back and help."

He patted her arm, favoring the sentiment. _I will. Thanks._

Frog stifled a nervous frown with a serious one, shouldered his sword and started back up the cliff. "Good luck, Crono. Let's go."

I watched the splintered party sprint up the rocks and over the ledge, torn between following them and staying where my obvious interests lay. I would be beyond useless to them, but I really I wanted to go, even if my only petty reason was to not have to watch Crono suffer the inevitable. I glanced back at the shattered, soulless shell that was supposed to be me and knew better. Crono wanted to save everyone. He was going to fail.

And I couldn't do a thing but watch. I flew to the top of the cliff, perched on the limb of a lonesome, dead shrub and stayed back while the others ran to the beach. They huddled around a spot Magus had designated in the sand, and with four little white flashes they were gone. At least they had made it that far safely. The rest was, disturbingly, in Magus's hands.

I looked down, behind me, where Crono was gathering his wits for the long walk ahead. He found my glasses in the mud and wiped them clean on the tail of his dirty shirt-a pointless bid at being thoughtful, though I figured it was more of a distraction, to clear his head. He pocketed them, sighed raggedly, stepped over to that frozen body and picked it up like some twisted corpse bride, mindful not to upset the well-lodged arrow. Then he simply turned his back to the mountains and walked.

And walked. I can't say what he hoping to accomplish, exactly. Maybe if we made it as far as civilization, I would have the luxury of dying indoors. Frog was right, though; the road was difficult. To be more precise, there wasn't a road-it was more like a giant, protracted stumbling block comprised of greasy clay, wet rubble and the occasional clump of soggy grass. I followed overhead in lazy spirals, feeling too much like a buzzard circling my soon-to-be carcass. It was surreal.

Still, traipsing hopelessly towards my demise gave me some time to think about things that weren't so bleak-namely, the novelty of flight, which I hitherto hadn't taken a moment to appreciate. It's not that gravity and aerodynamics necessarily applied to me as a ghost as they did before, but there was a special, exhilarating quality about soaring through the air under one's own strength, the scenery zooming out and over your shoulder at the flap of a wing... It would've been breathtaking, if I had any breath to take. I wasn't the biggest fan of heights, and sometimes flying is more like 'controlled falling,' but I could really get used to this-er, could have gotten. Past tense. This would be my last flight, so I had to try to enjoy it.

Who knows? Things just might work out for the best, anyway. We've beat tougher situations than this, right? Magus and the guys would rescue the princess, stop the evil sorceress and save the day. And I would... stay out of the way. Once I'm gone, the blight wouldn't be an issue. Nobody would have to worry about fiends, or the Darkness, or me turning into a monster. The more I thought about it, the more my reasoning leaned towards Mishu's-it would've been the wiser course to just leave me behind.

It's not like I had a family to go back to, but I didn't particularly dwell on that thought.

Any time my thoughts lifted towards something positive, however, I looked back to the ground and my heart broke a little. Crono wouldn't quit going. His boots were almost constantly mired in sludge, and he stumbled over every hidden dip, rock and puddle, but again and again he picked his chin up and moved on. I knew he was trying to be a good friend and take whatever illogical action tantamounted to the Right Thing, but why did he have to be so stubborn? Didn't he know an exercise in futility when he saw one? If I had to watch him slog through the mud any longer it really was going to kill me.

One such slip piqued my alarm, and I circled closer as Crono dropped to one knee and paused for a spell. After a minute he staggered back to his feet and trudged forward, but there was something off-something bothering him more than a tough road and an icy burden-something that made him seem unreasonably tired. I tried to walk along and read his face, but it was next to impossible with the way the rain made his spiky hair droop over his eyes, and those streaks of purple blood across his temple from where Heckran-

Oh, crap. Heckran struck him. Heckran struck him hard enough to make him _bleed_, and what are heckran claws notorious for? I can't believe everyone overlooked this-Marle even healed the wound afterward, which just sealed in the venom. Either Crono saw this coming and volunteered for this suicide mission to make sure he didn't get in the way of Marle's rescue, or he honestly forgot, which either way makes him a _total idiot_. Yet what does that make me, since I forgot, too? Not that I could have warned anyone. I was useless, even as a ghost (especially as a ghost.)

Crono stumbled again, and I heard his breath catch with a pained hiss as he plucked his ankle out of a pothole. He took a lurching step onward, wobbled a bit, and then took another. His every movement turned increasingly sluggish, and every couple of yards he would hesitate, blink twice, shake his head and reaffirm his grip on the dead weight he was carrying-a grip he was slowly but surely losing. Oh crud oh crap oh, _shit_. What was I going to do?

I furled my wings and started pacing alongside him, trying to stay close, even if my presence didn't mean a thing. At least he couldn't trip over a ghost. Speaking of rogue spirits, little black whispers hounded our every step.

_'Are you sure...this? I thought you said...trigger...summoning.'_

This was a nightmare-all of it, everything from the moment Magus magicked his cold-hearted ass into my room. I had to wake up soon. I couldn't imagine it getting any worse.

_'We're run...options. If she dies, the seed won't...and...our work...to naught.'_

I hate when I try to imagine things getting worse, because reality always trumps me.

_'...still don't like it.'_

We made it to the top of a hill when lightning struck, not anywhere immediate but close enough to jarr Crono and make him slip on a patch of clay. It was all downhill from there, with Crono falling sidelong into a tumble that made a few sloppy, disjointed stops on some boulders before hitting the bottom. As valiantly as he tried to hold on to his charge, the body was knocked out of his arms just as he bounced off another slab of clay. It fell crumpled on its side (I can't give this cryogenic cadaver a more personal pronoun or I'll go crazy) while Crono rolled face-first into the mud a few feet away.

I panicked and dove after them, landing between him and the body. For an awful moment, Crono didn't move. I could have screamed, but before a better idea came over me he gave a twitching start, dragging himself out of that puddle and gasping for air. He was a wreck, crawling and pale and shaking, caked with half a mile of grime and not going anywhere, fast. He didn't get back up; Crono's arms buckled and he collapsed, the last of his strength extinguishing with a trembling sigh. His eyes glazed over with a familiar, abject haze-Heckran's neurotoxin had finally hit its mark, and I realized with a pang of dread that this was as far as we were going to go.

I had given up on my own survival before this insane trek even began, but my heart sank with the thought that nobody was going to find us out here, and if someone didn't help Crono, then... then. Despite myself I inched close, offering an invisible, impossible warmth that couldn't comfort him as he lay in the rain and dirt like a dog, wheezing and shivering. My dad shot that poor dog. Somebody give me a bullet.

"...s...sorry..." he whimpered, the word so faint it was next to nothing, and then that lost, helpless look in his eyes dimmed and went out completely, his body going limp. I could discern some sedated breath, but Crono was otherwise out cold.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to _scream_. I thought of Marle pointing a gun at me and Magus telling her to pull the trigger. I flailed over my fallen friend, screeching with a voice that only Mishu could have intercepted, and even then in more of a _living_ dimension, _'Damnit! Damnit it all! This is all my fault! I couldn't stop Heckran, I couldn't stop Ramezia, I couldn't stop Seth, I couldn't help my parents, or Alsten or Crono or Marle or do anything but slow everyone down! Why am I so useless?'_

"That is an excellent question."

I shot up, shocked cold by the voice that was once a demonic haze, but now cut as clear as a diamond. I turned around and saw them, sitting side-by-side and staring complacently at Crono and me as if they had been there all along. They were hardly bigger than badgers, yet they didn't have any real shape or form. They looked like blobs of charcoal dust with sharp, glowing eyes-one set red, and the other blue. Set upon their limbless, airy bodies were traces of facial features-the blue-eyed one had a gently sloping, equine muzzle while the red-eyed one had the pointed, menacing countenance of a dragon.

_'Who... are you?'_

They grinned unpleasantly. The blue one spoke first, detached and suavely masculine. "Brother, should we tell her?"

The red one's tone was not as sophisticated, husky and rich with malice. "Nah... It's no fun that way. Make her guess."

Then I realized; these were the voices-_the_ voices-their physical forms. Or metaphysical, at least. _'You two... you're real!'_

The red one laughed. "Gwahaha, whaaat, did you think we were figments of your pretty little imagination? Sorry to disappoint you."

I shrank from the pair as I realized something worse. _'You're rapiers, like Seth!'_

"Hmm," the red one mused. "You're half right."

"Seth is an aberration to our kind," the blue one explained. "We would never try to possess you or your friends."

"The heavens forbid," his 'brother' grumbled. "Humans are so disgusting."

_'What do you want with me? Why have you been, been-stalking me?'_ I couldn't think of a more fitting word.

The blue one hummed a beat, mulling it over. "I'd love to answer that, but I do believe you have more pressing concerns at hand, wouldn't you agree?"

_'What in the world are you talking about?'_ Instead of waiting for whatever absurd answer those two spectres were going to concoct, I got myself a reality check and stormed off. _'Actually, you know what? Screw you guys! Screw all of this. For what I know, this has all been an elaborate near-death hallucination triggered by degrading neurological signals in my brain, and I'm gonna either wake up for cark it any moment.'_

The red one sniggered. "Heheh, you got at least that last part right."

I spun back around, unable to help myself. _'What?'_

"I'm afraid it's too soon for you," the blue one said. "We can't allow you to escape this mortal coil just yet."

"Heh, we anchored your beast to this plane to keep you from passing on."

Mister Blue went on to state matter-of-factly, "Yes, it's the very reason you can see us now. Of course, we can't hold you down forever. In just a few minutes, I'm afraid, you're going to die."

I gagged on a wad of nothing-okay, so despite all my griping, dying was still an... intimidating concept.

The blue one took stock of my reaction and said, sublimely sarcastic, "Shocking, I know."

"Yes, it would be a real pity, wouldn't it? You wouldn't want to die here, would you?" the red one concurred with barely concealed mirth.

The blue one's expression leveled to something businesslike as he proposed, "Which brings us to the point: we're going to tell you how to save your life."

_'What...?'_ I baulked from any assistance these two had to offer. _'Are you trying to help me? I don't understand...'_

They grinned like wolves. "It's not a matter of helping or hurting. It's not your time. It's that simple."

"We'll let you know when it is," the red one sneered.

The blue one abruptly looked aside, his attention caught by something imperceptibly far away. "Oh dear. I'm afraid we have an unexpected complication coming our way."

The red one snapped to look over his brother's 'shoulder.' "What?"

"One of Bahamut's. I sense he's come to collect her."

"What? Already? Meddling espers! They can't breach this dimension like that!"

"I'm afraid Lord Odin can. He _is_ called the God of Death for a reason."

The red one looked ready to boil over. "Grr... Odin! _Fuck_! We can't just stand here while he shows up!"

Meanwhile, the blue one maintained a cool facade. "No, we can't... There's only one recourse." He looked directly at me, his tone dipping into something dark and dire. "Listen carefully, Lucca. Call upon your beast partner. Just say _eto espirie Traukee_ and he will come. The Key of Light can save you from certain death. But just in case that isn't enough motivation for you, consider this..." And here his brother piped in, his grin turning truly iniquitous. "If you die now, you'll drag your friend Crono down with you."

Every feather on my not-body stood on end. _'You... You're bluffing! I don't believe anything you say!'_

"Are we?" the blue one met my challenge.

"Mweheh, destiny is a cruel mistress. She has a way of choosing your enemies for you. One of them is coming to take your life now. Your existence is considered a threat."

I couldn't let these guys get away without any answers. _'Why? A threat to what?'_

"To _their_ existence."

_'Who are you talking about?'_

"The espers."

_'What...?'_

"Shush, brother. It's time to go," the cool one chastised him, and then turned once more to me. "I mean it, girl. Call the _Traukee_ before it's too late. If you truly think we're lying, now's the perfect chance to test us."

_'Wait, what?'_ They vanished before I could get a word in edgewise, evaporating into thin air like smoke.

And that was all, so it seemed. I was losing my damn mind. I looked back at that rumpled girl-like _thing_, my human body, hair and clothes stained red while the skin was bleached down to the veins, and then at Crono-who wasn't too far away, in either sense. Those crazy voices were right about one thing: I was going to die. I was going to die, and then Crono...

No, no no no. I _couldn't_ let that happen, even if that meant buying into some retarded voodoo taught to me by a couple of ghost dogs. I had to try something, anything. _'I can't believe I'm doing this...'_ I self-consciously muttered as I stood over my friend's sickly form and recalled that incantation. Go go go, photographic memory.

_'Eto... eto espirie. Eto espirie Traukee_.'

Nothing. I suppressed a sigh, closed my eyes and tried again. Maybe something would happen if I treated it like a magic spell, just like the beast talent.

_'Eto espirie Traukee. He said the Key of Light would come. Please... I'm desperate. Please help.'_

I felt a breeze rush beneath my feet, balmy and warm, and when I opened my eyes I was looking at an... egg of light, like a soft incandescent bulb, sitting on Crono's shoulder. The moment I squeaked and jumped back it _hatched_, the effervescent shell peeling away to reveal a fully-fledged bird. It stumbled away from where it spawned, golden licks of flame streaming off its plumage, and when the dusty light cleared it poked around quizzically, looking for its bearings.

Geez, I asked for help, and got another bird. Somebody up there hates me. It wasn't even as big as me-it looked more like a kestrel, of all thi-wait. _'I-wha-Crono?'_

The kestrel snapped its quick eyes to me, looking as perplexed as a bird of prey could. _'Lucca?'_ it-he-oh cripes it WAS Crono-voiced at length.

I hopped in place, both astonished and infuriated with the fates at once. _'_This_ is what that's supposed to do? This isn't helpful at all!'_

The kestrel glimpsed his own poor, disconnected human body stranded in the mud and flapped his wings in a clueless tantrum. _'Whoa, what's going on?'_

This was going to end well. At least we could communicate? I tried to explain, _'Crono, listen I-'_

That's when destiny came knocking, and everything else quit mattering. I'm not sure any words I use can adequately describe this. It's like the sky opened up, every patch of light between the clouds stripped down to a black web, blanketing the landscape in darkness that seemed to stop time. The wind, the lightning-even the rain froze to the last drop, suspended in air that didn't breathe. A stone's throw away, a black gate opened, and Death's own persona rode forth. I swear to hell.

He was the epitome every rock-hard knight you never wanted to cross on the battlefield, as tall as two grown men and decked in cast iron plate heavy enough to sink a battleship. He wore a wickedly horned helmet and a war-torn cape that billowed in a timeless draught, and was seated upon a six-legged horse with an ashen mane and eyes that simmered like hot pokers. His face was inscrutable, pitched in shadow, but it's not as if you'd be looking for it-you would sooner notice the six-foot sword he carried at his side, inscribed with runes that glowed under a devilish enchantment.

The death rider strode calmly through the gate, stopped a short ways before us and dismounted. Crono and I just stared at this monster of a man, unable to move. He never introduced himself. He raised one arm, reaching and pointing at us, and uttered one word dark and dense enough to forge a singularity.

**"Come."**

Something _pulled_ me, something more intense and pervasive than gravity itself, and it felt like the only way to keep standing was to move forward, towards that man's beckoning hand. I couldn't resist his draw, much less consider where I was going-_one foot in front of the other, and the other, and the other, _marching ever-slowly into the gate that reaps. A pinprick in the back of my mind told me to stop and think, but it was miniscule next to the overpowering urge to walk and keep walking-until a wall of yellow-brown feathers dropped directly in my path.

_'Lucca, wait!'_ Wait. Wait what? This wall of feathers was talking. It sounded like Crono. The black knight flexed his hand and spoke again.

_**"Come."**_

That ineffable force pushed and pulled-I fell flat into my kestrel friend, who stumbled and dug his tiny feet into the earth to compensate. He held out his short wings, catching me and bracing against unseen powers that could bend mentality and mortality alike. _'Lucca, hang on! Don't go!'_

**"Do not stand in my way, **_**Ellichronrisen**_**,"** the black knight issued a warning, though my mind drew blanks at his every other word. Why stand? Whose way? _Elliwhat_?

Did I... even care...?

_Don't be useless_, a voice scolded from the recesses of my memory, and it sounded just enough like Magus to piss me off. I retched at the imagery and shoved myself backwards, giving Crono space to breathe. _'Are you okay?'_ he frenetically asked.

I shook myself free of that terrible, suicidal compulsion. _'I-ah? Crono, I-'_ will never get to finish a damn sentence. Clanking armor interjected, each footfall like an incoming tank as the black knight plodded closer. Although it felt like eternity, before we could blink twice he was towering over us, demon sword raised for a blow that couldn't possibly miss. We were dead. We were just dead, that was it.

Crono wasn't convinced. He jumped ahead of me again, feathers bristling and wings swept low to the ground with a territorial screech. _'Get away!'_

I had not witnessed anything play out in slow motion like that since we fought Lavos on the battlefield of the fourth dimension. The black knight swung his sword and Crono sprang into the air the same instant, a spell roaring to life between his talons that was somehow too clean and bright to be lightning. I had only seen it once before-the product of last-ditch desperation, a blast of pure magic that was the antipode to Magus's shadow bomb and twice as potent, blinding everything that wasn't sucked into its sphere of destruction and white-washed off the palette of existence. We had found Crono sitting in a _mahna_-drained daze in the aftermath, and any attempts to ask what the hell happened were shrugged off with a dopey grin.

I was about to get one more chance to find out, but like a spring snapping in a clock, time unwound too fast and all at once-a metal blade sang, a ball of magic plasma ignited, and the entire world fell apart.

I... think I screamed.

_'Crono!'_

* * *

A/N: Final chapter is coming up. If there are any points or issues about the story you'd like to see addressed before it's finished, **now would be the best time to ask**. Thanks to everyone for the support so far!


	25. The Calm

**25. The Calm**

You'd think a mechanical genius and a sword jockey wouldn't have much to do with each other, and you'd kind of be right. Crono and I barely have anything in common. I love to read, while his idea of a good book is one thick enough to use as a pillow. He likes to go out to town and cavort with his peers, while I prefer the company of schematics and machines. He enjoys sword training and regular exercise, when I'd rather jog my brain.

Yet, when we tired of all those day-to-day things, we always found respite with each other. I rarely stopped to wonder why that was--why I was lucky enough to have a friend like Crono when no one else dared come by that 'crazy inventor's house.' Crono and I had this solidarity that never needed to be put to words, and basically, our arrangement was perfect--tried and true, comfortable and broken-in. Sometimes my feelings on the subject were a little more amorous than proper, but I was always smart enough to keep that cloying sentimentality at bay. Why mess with perfection?

And then one day, he bumped into a princess.

I can't be bitter. Thanks to that incident, I made so many incredible friends, Marle included. But all the while, even during our adventures, I could never shake the hunch that my friendship with Crono would never be the same. And I was right. Whenever Crono came over, he always brought Marle with him, to fill our usual, amiable silence with bubbly chatter. Or then again, some days I'd get the notion to go over to his house and hang out, only to find he's off at the castle. It's a lonesome inconvenience, but I'm not bitter; I can't grudge my best friend the love of his life. I can always turn around, go home and tinker with my next project until I forget all about it.

...I don't think I want to forget, though--not completely. I guess I had been suffering under the delusion that life would never change.

_How would you want to go?_

I was sitting on the bed in Crono's room, staring at the ornamental swords hanging on the wall and ruminating over the end of a bad dream. He bought those swords from the flea market with spare change from his odd summer jobs. He liked them because they looked cool, but was disappointed to learn that they weren't 'clashable'. I berated his poor spending, calling him worse than my dad, yet never admitted that they added a nice flair to the place.

"I dunno... Just _not_ drowning. That has to be the worst way." I shuddered as the dregs of that nightmare washed over me: falling into a well whose waters rose up to swallow me before I could even catch my breath.

Crono reached for a curtain to shut out the glaring afternoon sunlight, tapped his pencil thoughtfully over his homework (a funny reversal--when he's at my house, _I'm_ the one working and he's the one loafing around), and turned around at his desk, mulling over the hypothetical query with a lopsided frown. Eventually he provided, "Fire."

"Seriously? You're afraid of fire?"

His frown sharpened. _I didn't say that! It's just..._ He rolled his shoulders with an uneasy shrug. "Burning alive has to be the worst."

"I guess..." I conceded, and then hit a bright spot on our morbid conversation. "Oh, you know what? I want to be like Alfreed Schopen."

A blank look, eyebrows slanting towards the ceiling. _Who?_

"Don't you know anything?" That was my usual preface to a lecture, and Crono kicked back in his chair with a weary grunt, bracing for it. "He created the first electric cell, which led to the invention of the battery and eventually the electromagnetic generator. He made all kinds of machines that could conduct direct current. He also tried to build the world's first electric fireplace, but that didn't go over too well after burning his house to the ground. All the same, he was a brilliant mind ahead of his time!"

Crono feigned sticking his finger in a light socket and shook dramatically, anticipating the ending. _So was he electrocuted?_

"Nope. He was arrested for sorcery and beheaded. Turns out the people of the eighth century weren't too keen about machines that could spout fire and lightning. The country was still pretty paranoid about magic, after the Mystic War and all that."

Crono shot me a muddled smirk. _And you want to die like _that_?_

"Well you see, right before he was executed, he asked his assistant to observe how many times he could blink his eyes after being decapitated. It was supposed to determine whether or not a beheaded man was still aware before he died. They say he blinked fifteen times in thirty seconds before finally croaking. Of course, that's just an urban legend; it doesn't have any basis in fact. Still, it's a really noble thought, to spend your final moments conducting an experiment in the name of science." I sighed loftily. "That man is my hero."

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his homework. _You are freaking weird._

I woke up.

Everything was dark, painted in the murky palette of midnight. It was quiet--maybe too quiet. The silence felt... not bad, per se, but strange. I couldn't put my finger on why. I was laying on something soft, the linen cool and smooth at my fingertips. Sheets? It was a bed. I was in a bed, and overhead was a slatted wooden ceiling, and there I could see... I could see... absolutely nothing. Where were my glasses?

I reflexively reached for a bed table that wasn't there, the sudden movement sending a lash of pain across my middle, like tripping a giant mousetrap. I valiantly resisted the urge to double over and howl like a stuck beast and steeled up, holding my breath until the wave of agony subsided. It felt like my insides were on fire; I couldn't remember what I did to deserve a thrashing that bad, but I sure as hell didn't want to trigger it again.

The moment I exhaled, something next to me _jumped_--a lurching shadow that nearly made me break my impromptu vow of silence with a shriek. The shadow sat up in the bed, taking on a vaguely human shape the more I squinted at it. After a beat it slouched with a sigh, and I recognized that noise much better than the mess of spiky red hair that wouldn't come into focus. I started to remember everything in fragments--finding Melchior, meeting Ramezia, falling into the well, facing Heckran... Crono, Crono _screamed_, and then...

"Crono...?" I tested, nearly choking on my own tongue. My mouth felt like I'd been eating nothing but moss and dust bunnies for days. The apparition gave a barely audible huff, relief and disbelief mixed in his tone, and then threw an arm over me, flooding my senses with bleary shadow-dragon-tonic-warmth, almost excruciatingly close and tingly.

It was Crono, Crono was _okay_, and for just that tiny moment, nothing else mattered. I didn't even breathe--it slipped my mind.

Then a cricket chirped, breaking the spell. He let me go and pulled away, giving me space to think. My eyes gradually adjusted to the drab light, drawing in the outline of his face and all the less-than-subtle details of my environment, although without my glasses my powers of observation were limited. If I were asked on the spot, my best description of the room would've been that the walls were off-white, there's a blob in the corner that's hopefully a shelf, there's another blob that's either a mirror or a painting, and somewhere in this blurry quagmire is a damn cricket.

Wait, that cricket. It sounded like it came from outside, and if I could hear a cricket chirp out there, then what I _wasn't_ hearing was... "It's not raining," I croaked, astounded by that very simple observation. It's amazing how refreshing the sound of it _not_ raining can be, although I wasn't quite ready to digest the implications.

Crono nodded, barely close enough to read the jubilant nuances of his expression. He then lowered a concerned frown. _How do you feel?_

Like death warmed over--oh, wait. Right. I remembered now--all of it, every horrible minute in-between this dimension and the next, right up until that damning flash of light. I blinked several times, clearing the way in my head for a straight answer, but everything stayed dim and fuzzy. "...My ribs hurt." My _everythin_g hurt, but I felt it was best to start with the obvious. Besides, the pain was the best way to tell I was alive, which was more than I could've hoped for. Everything up until then was numb and scary, like a bad dream. Hurting was normal, good.

There was a wavering glint in his eye that I didn't have time to interpret before he hugged me again. "Ah! Ah..." I gasped, my mind bled dry under that bedazzling touch. All I could register was a raw, distressing _feeling_ that was not quite gratitude and not quite regret, set to the drum of his heart--fiercely earnest, desperate, and leaving my every fiber thrumming with empathy. I knew, then, that it was all real--our beast link, the ghosts, that terrible knight in black armor... and Crono was there. I didn't have a clue what happened, but I knew in my gut that if Crono wasn't there, I would've...

My memories dredged up a far-away promise on a mountaintop, a verbal contract I knew Crono was going to violate the moment he agreed to it--perhaps _because_ it was a verbal contract--damnit, I have to start putting things like this in writing. Still, I reiterated it out of principle, because I couldn't forget. I would never forget. I mustered up one solid punch to his shoulder, and Crono grimaced, nonplussed. _What?_

"I told you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again, I'd kick your butt." I sniffed, considering whether I had the strength to follow up that statement. "...I'm not up to par yet, but when I get better... totally kicking your butt."

He chuckled, pulled me close again and tousled my hair, taking the threat in stride. Cocky bastard. "Um, ow..." I complained, pretending it hurt (it really didn't. It felt wonderful, dangerously wonderful.) I was pretty sure that beast link was messing with my head, but after what we just went through, I didn't care. We both nearly died. I just wanted him to hold me. I liked it when he... I mean, I wanted him to...

Good grief, I needed to get a grip. Maybe rationalizing it out loud would help. "Um... I am positive... this beast-link thing is what's making me feel... uhm... overly fond of you right now." Good job, self. That only sounded half as stupid in my ears as it did in my head.

The poor fool hesitated, considering it for himself, and then nodded slowly. _I know, me too._ He tipped his hand, weighing his tentative thoughts. _It's really... confusing._

Just confusing? The pain and bliss was so overwhelming, my heart was trembling. I felt weak. I wanted to pass out. I wanted... I think I really wanted...

Before I said something _really_ moronic, the notion to get some more rest crossed my mind, and then I was drowsing, all things black and blue and replete.

Time passed strangely from then on. I spent most of it in a languorous stupor, hanging around the threshold between dreams and hallucinations, and before I knew it, I was hearing voices again.

_("An ice arrow... it's rather amazing. And fortunate, in a strange way.")_

The world kept spinning; morning broke with or without me. I watched daylight wax and wan in disoriented leaps and bounds; every time I opened my eyes, the sunspot on the wall was someplace different. I fleetingly recalled footsteps coming and going, noises through the walls, the aroma of coffee and fresh cooking... maybe eggs? I was aware of everything going on around me, except I wasn't. I didn't think to ask. I didn't really think of anything.

_("If it were any other kind of magic she would have died on the spot, but that ice virtually froze her metabolism and slowed the bleeding to a crawl. It's probably the only thing that kept her alive.")_

_("That's what Magus said...")_

Crono was always around, though. If I couldn't see him, I could hear his muted pacing down the way (I'm not sure how I could tell that was him--I knew it in the way a cat can sense its master's approach merely by his footfalls.) I had a moment of twilight where I thought he was gone, waking with a start in a cold sweat, but then a warm hand settled on my shoulder with a soothing command. So I fell back asleep, and kept sleeping. A lot.

_("Were you able to apprehend those spirits?")_

_("No, they got away... Just what were those things?")_

_("Hmm, who knows? It's a good thing they found us, I suppose, but it makes you wonder. There's never an end to the strange and marvelous things in this world.")_

I finally woke up... later. It was dark again. I was laying on my side, looking out into a room I still couldn't see straight, much less recognize. It could've been the next night or an entirely different one, for all my tenuous grasp of the present was worth. I didn't know where I was, much less what was going on, but the sound of crickets and Crono's snoring at my back were music to my ears. The blanket was heavy and warm, and when I moved, my arm bumped into his, the brush of skin making me quiver with tactile pleasure. It's so amazing, having a beast partner... I totally recommend it.

Strange, though--I thought it had stopped raining. Why did my hair feel wet? Wait, it can't rain indoors. Was there a leak in the ceiling? I wondered what could be dripping, dropping, slimy...

The proximity of the snoring struck home. Oh gawd, Crono was _drooling on me_. That sick, sorry son of a... I shoved myself free, and he dropped back to the pillow with a drowsy grunt, oblivious. I sat up and pawed the damp spot on my head. Ugh, gross. At least it didn't hurt like blazes to move around anymore--the pain was more of a nagging ache. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and blindly surveyed the room. There was either a potted plant or a stuffed octopod on the desk nearest me. Were we alone in here? Whose house was this? My glasses had to be somewhere...

My head felt light and my limbs felt distant, like I had just drank a tonic or two, or... ten. Also, my side itched. I reached to scratch it and encountered the rough texture of gauze. I pulled up my shirt and studied the bandages wrapped around my torso, particularly where the sterile white fabric sported unsavory dark stains--there was a spot over my diaphragm that was as black as ink. Huh, that's kind of nasty... I wondered if it was as fun to pull that arrow out as it looked.

A fluttering silhouette blotted out the square of moonlight on the floor, and I flicked a glance to the open window just as a pair of long, heavy legs pulled themselves through, followed by a hulking body draped in dark webs, like bat wings. The cloak seemed to furl about the intruder of its own accord, while he stood clear and stoically scanned the room. It's hard not to know Magus when you see him--or barely see him, as was my case.

He looked at me, and I could practically feel the burrowing appraisal behind those devil-eyes. A slew of appropriate questions flew to mind, but they all seemed witless under that wizard's stare. Then he spoke up in a tone that, even though he's said it a hundred times before, managed to sting the most.

"You're useless, you know."

I snapped out of my daze with a scowl. "What are you doing here? Where are we? And what the heck happened to everyone? The last thing I remember was..." I hesitated, giving Crono a long, considerate look. He kept snoring.

Magus disdainfully obliged, "You mean, while you were being useless? Heckran and Ramezia are dead. I stopped the spell. The Mammon Machine is destroyed. ...For good, this time."

"Oh. That's... good," I said fecklessly. It was the most critical part of our quest and I completely missed it--Crono too, no thanks to me. How anticlimactic, to have the news delivered to me like this. A little alarm sounded in my head, and I blurted out, "Marle! Is she okay??"

He fixed a funny look on me, just like the one I got when we were discussing the designs on the gate shrines. I had just asked an either lame or impossible question. "Fine..." he answered at gravelly length, deliberately overlooking the plot hole between my 'death' and Marle's abduction. Screw the faux pas--at least she was alive. I could glean the details from the princess later.

I swiftly moved on. "So, the world is safe? And everybody's okay?"

Magus shifted his gaze towards the window whence he came. "I suppose. Not that you could have done anything about it, since you were busy being--"

"--useless, thank you, I got it. Asshole. So what are you doing here? You come to gloat or something?"

"No." And then he didn't say anything else. I glared at him, uselessly. Then, to my surprise, he pulled the _T'torlan_ from his cloak and flashed the cover out of my reach. "I'm keeping this."

"What the--" I reeled at the undead memory of him plucking it out of the mud. "Hey, I never gave that to you! You thief!"

"You looked dead enough. I'd call it looting, not stealing."

I smirked sourly. "That's so much better, thanks. What do you even need it for?"

He turned it over in his hands, musing, "Could come in handy."

"So you came all this way to tell me you're going to keep what you stole from me?"

"It's supposed to be a courtesy, you brat," Magus growled.

"You've got a really funny idea of 'courtesy'."

"And you've got some mouth for someone who should be dead."

"That doesn't make any _sense_," I fired back. "Are you even trying to be threatening anymore?"

"Hrmph." That was big, grumpy '_no_'. "How is it you cretins survived, anyway?"

Crono killed the Grim Reaper. I got to watch. Suck on that one, Magus. "Just lucky, I guess." What made him even care? Morbid curiosity?

"Heh. That's all you ever were..."

"Fortune favors the bold," was the best comeback I had.

"Hmm... On that much, we agree."

With that, he grew silent--sullen and distant as always. It felt like we were at another impasse. "So... What are you going to do, now?"

He wouldn't look at me as he replied, "Doesn't matter."

I was being nosy; sue me. "You're still looking for her, aren't you?"

"...It's none of your business, weakling." He took his time with that rejoinder; it wasn't as hostile as it could've been. He always clammed up whenever _she_ was mentioned--it's the only thing that made me suspect that warlock had a heart.

"I guess not..." I admitted, more sober than I intended (wow, I was really mellow. Maybe I did drink some tonics unawares--I could almost taste it.) However, the real heart of the matter still bugged me. "You know, for a bunch of people you think are weak, stupid and useless, you sure keep hanging around. Why did you really let me come with you? And Crono? And everybody? If all you wanted was the Gate Key, you had a million chances to just take it. I know there has to be some other reason."

It wasn't something that just occurred to me; it was something I'd been wondering since he joined our team in the first place. In all our travels together, the best explanation I could fathom was his recognition that we were the only people both brainsy and ballsy AND crazy and stupid enough to take on Lavos, and that put him in the right crowd. I knew that whatever the reason, it was as fragile as any of Magus's alliances, and I had never contemplated it further out of the fear that seeking the answer would push him to desert us--or worse. And yet, now that Lavos was gone and no further explanations were forthcoming, this was the first time I actually got the nerve to ask him myself.

If I couldn't see any better, I'd mistake that twitch for a grin, a teasing little thing. "You're not unilaterally stupid and useless. The cavewoman has uses. The frog isn't stupid."

I gawped at him, trying to effect rage but letting laughter slip instead--yeah, I was drugged or something. "Haha, oh, but _I'm_ stupid and useless? That's what you're saying. Oh! Go on, call me stupid. I freaking dare you."

"I didn't call you stupid," he retorted, vexed by my tirade. "You're crazy. And useless. And annoying. But not stupid." He then turned away with a smoldering snort. "And I'm out of here."

Was he seriously going to go back out the damn window? Why was he sneaking around? Oh never mind, this was Magus--I didn't want to know.

"Hey, Magus."

I got a silly little thrill to catch him there, his cloak hung up on the frame as he straddled a windowsill that was way too small and looked back at me. His testy and unspoken _What?_ was as loud and clear as any of Crono's.

"Next time you decide to, oh, pop in for a visit, you could try, you know--the door? Knocking is considered a courtesy, too."

I heard a resigned, "...Useless," and then he left. I bit back a grin. That was the closest thing to a real conversation I'd ever had with that man.

I got my chance to interrogate Marle later, on a hot and lucid afternoon that was winding down into evening. I learned that we were at Melchior's house, which coincided with Frog's estimate of our last location. To be specific, we were staying in a spare bedroom upstairs.

We made a party of it, five of us exchanging stories in that crowded little guest room. Ayla was squatting wrongways in a wooden chair, Mishu occupied the windowsill much more gracefully than Magus had the night before, and I was reclining at the head of the bed while Marle sat at the foot, regaling everyone with the misbegotten conclusion of our grand adventure. The bunk was flush against a wall, which Crono was leaning on as he sat cross-legged over the covers and amused himself with a paper toy Marle had constructed (there were little loopy cat faces drawn on the side). When I finally got a look at him in the daylight with my glasses, his injuries were a lot more obvious--he had traded his headband for a bandage that was almost dyed as lividly as mine. It was a wonder he survived Heckran's blow, much less remained conscious.

I had to ask how that ordeal with Ramezia turned out before anything, of course, and I can at least say Marle's account was more colorful than Magus's.

"Oh yeah, it was scary for a second. So, we're on a beach, I don't know where, and she starts dragging me around, demanding I take her to see Pillie--I tripped over a crab and it pinched me right on the big toe. See?" She held up her bare foot to show off a shiny blister. "So I told her Gritchen was with Pillie last, and Ramezia went completely ballistic, calling me a liar and all kinds of things, but she didn't hit me or anything, really. Then she made a really loud 'grr!' like a bear, if a bear was like a fish, and we took off again, with that black teleport thing. It's so weird! It's like a gate, but it's a lot darker, and there's no wind or sound--it's just really really cold." She shuddered. "It gave me the creeps."

"The Darkness..." Mishu muttered from her corner, but didn't look up or elaborate. Marle only paused to draw some more breath before continuing.

"So she takes me to one of those gate shrine thingys and then we're back at that lab, you know, where the Mammon Machine is. It looks like she's going to drag me all the way back to the colony to look for Gritchen but then there he is--he walks right up to her and plants his foot..." She stands up, imitating a bold stance. "And he says like, 'I'm sorry, Lady Ramezia, but I cannot allow you to proceed,' and she doesn't even say 'why,' she just like, slaps him across the face--BAM! And he goes flying to the floor and I'm like, 'oh my gosh!' and then Melchior jumps out from around the corner at the exact same time--I guess he was hiding? So Melchior is up in her face, telling her not to go any further, and it looks like she's about to smack him too, so I twist her arm back--because she's still trying to hold me, you know?"

She contorted around an invisible dummy to demonstrate the maneuver. "So I throw her off balance, and then Melchior takes his cane and goes--_whaaaawp_!" A dramatic upper swing. "Right on the chin, knocks her out. It was so easy it was scary. I didn't think Melchior had it in him. It was the coolest thing I'd _ever seen_."

"Fuckin' ridiculous," Mishu griped at the ease with which an elderly man was able to one-up her in combat with the sorceress.

"So Ramezia drops like a sack of flour and I'm like _oh my gawd_, but everybody's okay. And then the rest of you guys show up! I'm so relieved but I'm like, wait, where's Crono and Lucca? So Ayla starts telling me what happened and I'm like _oh my gawd_ again, except Magus is already saying how we have to stop the Mammon Machine before that spell is done. So we run _really really fast_ back to that room, with the weird gate and everything."

She sat back on the bed and threw her hands into her lap with a gusty sigh. "Phew. It looked like we were just in time. But Melchior thinks that, um... that spell, the viti-thing--"

"_Vitraevos_," I corrected. Have I mentioned Marle's a good storyteller? As long as she doesn't have to explain anything technical, that is.

"Yeah! He doesn't think it was going to work the way Ramezia planned, anyway."

Huh, sounds like Melchior and I were on the same page. "Really? How did he think it would work?"

Marle has a funny way of weaving her hands over her head as she explains things. "Well, he's like, if she's using the gates to move all that water, it would still have to follow the law of, um... What's that word? Conservative?"

"Conservation of Time?" I hazarded. "And that's not really a law; it's just Gaspar's theory, but..." I had a freak mental image of a tidal wave sweeping Spekkio away, and lost the rest of my rational thought.

Marle gladly filled in for me. "Oh. Well yeah, it's just like what happened to us when we went to the End of Time. The water would just go _there_." She cracked up with an absurd titter. "Oh my gosh, I'm picturing Gaspar just standing there with an umbrella, and then a big wave goes _whoosh_." She threw her weight into a pantomime, playfully bouncing over the mattress, and Ayla snickered. "Hope old man can swim! Haha."

I was skeptical; that theorem only applied to people, and it was still full of holes as it was (you should have seen the debates I started with Gaspar. Nearly made the old man tear his hair out. I can't help being right all the time.) That didn't even mention the restrictive mechanics of the gate rings Ramezia was using, and then... I think I needed to hash out that hypothesis with Melchior. In the meantime... "So, how did you stop the spell? Did Magus use your pendant with the Mammon Machine like Melchior suggested?"

"We blew up the gates!" Marle declared with perfect alacrity, like she was saying 'I found a puppy' or 'we baked a cake.' Crono dropped his paper toy and his jaw simultaneously, and it's a good thing I was already sitting down, because I would've hit the floor right there. Marle read our appalled expressions and quickly retracted, "I mean, not all of them! Just the ones Ramezia connected to the Mammon Machine. Melchior and Gritchen took care of it. Frog helped, too--he used the Masamune to tear it all up. That sword is like a pointy wrecking ball, I swear. And that's after Magus turned off the machine--it worked just like Melchior said."

She tugged on the gold chain around her neck, drew its pendant into her hand and held it close, fondling the rich blue Dreamstone. "It looked like it was going to break... I was worried."

"And what happened to Ramezia?" I asked.

"Magus cut her head off before _someone_ got a better idea," Mishu butted in, aiming a critical word at the princess.

Marle pulled her knees up to her chest and said petulantly, "I'm sorry. I just thought--"

"Yeah well, don't think so fucking much." Wow. That was the exact opposite of what I was going to tell Marle, but whatever. "You can't rehabilitate a fucking fiend. Going crazy is what they _do_. Once the Darkness goes to their head, they're as good as gone."

I swallowed a lump in my throat and glanced aside, hoping I didn't suddenly look as cold as I felt. Is that what I had to look forward to? Becoming like Ramezia? I didn't want to lose my mind--not like that...

Marle shrugged off Mishu's admonition and twined a loose strand of hair around her finger, pensive with her own problem. "Doesn't it bother you guys? That stuff Ramezia was talking about?"

I wrinkled my nose, not catching whiff of her meaning. "Which stuff? The genocide stuff or the crazy mother earth stuff?"

She said it so somberly it was like a bad joke. "The stuff about the planet hating us."

_That_ was troubling her? Seriously? I mean sure, it's kind of sad, but... I guess I really am heartless. At least I could try to console her with reason. "I wouldn't take any of that to heart. Magus thinks she was really communicating with Lavos. With that necklace she was wearing, who's to say. If it actually was Lavos, then yeah, I can imagine why it would be hating us a little."

I heard myself and winced at a fallacy--a point upon which Marle would take too long to object. Why would Lavos abhor the humans, the species it spent so many eons cultivating for its ultimate harvest? Sure, its grievance could be against me and my friends in particular, but that would imply a precognition that... I don't know. I've heard of holding a grudge beyond the grave, but _before_ it? Lavos wasn't an entity that liked to adhere to time's regular flow, but then again, neither were we. And I didn't want to imagine what such a horrific being would dream about across the ages.

_A replicate..._ _Dragonkin Omega._ Where did Lavos come from? Who originally created the gates, and the gate shrines? And that red gate? Who wrote the _T'torlan_? I got an unsettling inkling that I was going to die not knowing any of those things. ...I just hoped I wouldn't turn into a monster first.

Unlike me, logic was rarely able to assuage Marle's conscience. "But you remember what Heckran said about the Mystics in the future? That they'll all be gone? You don't think that's because of us, do you?"

"Us, in particular? No, probably not." I shrugged. "Humanity in general? Maybe..."

"Why, is anyone going to _miss them_?" Mishu said caustically.

"Of course they'll be missed!" Marle chided. "That's a terrible thing to say. It's just not fair, for an entire race to just... go away."

"Reptites go away. Strong survive. Way always been. Law of Earth always fair, even if people no see."

Ayla made a valid, if blunt point. "We can't be held responsible for what happens to the Mystics in the future, Marle," I tried again.

She vehemently shook her head. "But the things we do in the present shape the future! And all we did just now is kill a whole bunch of Mystics that were fighting for theirs."

Suddenly, I got it. Marle was thinking like a princess, for once--like a soon-to-be-ruler over an entire kingdom, including its relationship with its neighbors. She wanted to be reassured that we were fighting the Mystics for the right reasons, because ultimately, it was the humans of her generation and onward that were going to set the example that might seal the Mystics' fate.

Of course, Mishu didn't give a rat's ass about that, and she said with the deliberate drawl a matron uses to correct children, "No, they were fighting to kill us. Because they thought Ramezia had a good idea. We changed their minds."

"By beating their asses," I grumbled, finishing the thought that no one else wanted to voice. Crono snorted with ill humor.

Ayla extended a compassionate hand. "Marle, no feel bad. You know right from wrong, good Mystic from bad. You already wise, make good chief."

Marle scrubbed away the misty look in her eyes and returned a warm smile. "Thanks, Ayla..."

"Yeah, don't worry about it," I backed her up. "The timeline will sort this stuff out like it always seems to." Huh, it felt like our old discussion about historical repercussions just came full circle. Was I conceding a point to predestination? How silly of me.

"Oh!" Marle perked up and leaned towards me with a confidential air. "Speaking of things working out, you want to know what was _really_ weird? It was how we found you guys."

"Oh?" Crono and I exchanged an intrigued look. Apparently he hadn't heard this story yet, either.

"Right after that whole thing with Ramezia, we went back to look for you two, right? We were hoping you had made it to town, but it had rained so much that we couldn't find your tracks or anything. Even Ayla was lost. I thought it was going to take hours to retrace our steps, but then you wouldn't believe what we saw."

I didn't know what was coming, but something in the pit of my stomach was dreading it. "What?"

"It was a couple of _ghosts_. They came out of nowhere and started talking to us!" Before any of us could challenge her, she threw up her palm in an oath. "I swear I'm not making it up. Ayla saw them too, right?"

"Look like _rape-er_," Ayla emphasized.

Crono's shoulders stiffened, alarmed. "W-What did they say?" I stammered.

"They asked if we were looking for someone, and I said yes, and then they led us straight to you guys," Marle reported. "They were so weird. They were like _this_ tall..." She held her hand about a foot off the bed. "And looked like little black dogs or something. And they had creepy glowing eyes."

"One red and one blue...?" I asked timorously. I couldn't believe this.

Marle's eyes widened with amazement. "How did you know?"

What could I say? "I just... saw them in a dream. Did they say who they were?" I answered a question with a question.

She shook her head. "No. Frog tried to hunt them down, but as soon as we found you two, they disappeared without a trace. Melchior thinks they were more like demons than ghosts, but we can't think of why they would want to help us."

Me neither, and that was the scariest part. Whatever those rapiers wanted--if that's what they actually were--they were willing to risk exposure to rescue us... for what? Those black voices didn't strike me as humanitarians. Even when I had the chance to ask, they denied me any direct answers.

"Isn't that _freaky_? I wonder where they came from. But I'm just glad everyone's safe." Marle then turned a heartfelt look to Crono and me. "You both scared us, you know."

Crono gave an abashed shrug. _Sorry 'bout that._ "All's well that ends well, huh?" I recited, trying to deflect the blame.

"Uh-_huh_," Marle huffed, nudging Crono with her outstretched foot. "I already gave _you_ your whippin' for that crazy stunt. You always have to try to be the hero on your own, don't you? Next time let _your friends_ help you," she mildly lectured.

Ayla nodded soundly. "Ayla know! No good, Crono stubborn."

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, looking adequately cowed. _I know, I know..._

Considering I owed him a beating later, as well, I decided to refrain from comment--that dope had enough trouble without three girls ganging up on him. Instead I pursued a change of subject. "Say, where are Frog and Melchior, again?"

"Melchior went to town for supplies and Frog went with him. I said he didn't have to, but..." Marle shrugged. "Maybe he's looking out for Magus."

"Why, did Magus take off again?"

She nodded. "I don't even know if he'll come back. He didn't say a word to anybody."

What a surprise. "Yeah, you know how Magus is..."

I asked how everyone was doing in the meantime, and Marle informed that while I spent three insensate days under Melchior's care, Frog led our group to investigate the Heckran Caves nearby. They didn't find any remnants of Heckran's gang, nor another gate, so that lead was buried. Ayla's stomach growled loud enough to turn the conversation to food, and while we were whining about how long Melchior was taking with the groceries, I confirmed my suspicion about the medication; I had been subsisting on tonics the entire time. When I asked if I was really that bad off, all Marle said was, "Hee, you talked a lot in your sleep. It was funny."

That didn't sit well. "Why, what did I say??"

"Oh, just... stuff." She shook her head, suddenly sober and evasive. And I thought I was a bad liar. "Most of it was just rambling."

Huh, so whatever I said was able to make Marle uncomfortable, of all people. Nice to know that I'm capable of embarrassing myself in my sleep, too. I looked to Crono for a clue, and he held up the 'square' sign, followed by a cut-off gesture. _Nerd stuff. You don't want to know._

"O...kay." The uneasy silence grew unbearably itchy. I pulled up the corner of my shirt and began picking at my bandages (familiarity breeds immodesty, I guess.) Marle reached over to slap my hand, and I blocked her with my elbow.

"Tch, quit scratching it!"

"_Tch_, it itches! Give me a break, Princess."

The sulky smile didn't sell her scolding very well. "You're just going to make it worse."

"Yeah, well..." I peeled the gauze away from the root wound, which was healing well enough, but started to resemble a grotesque second belly button. "Geez, what an ugly scar. I'm going to be stuck with this thing forever."

"Good!" Ayla chipped in. "In Ioka, scar sign of strength. All good fighter have."

While I was distracted, Crono licked his thumb, sprang forward and slicked it across my navel. I dropped my shirt with a giddy yelp, foxfire roiling in my gut all the while I pummeled that crowing snigger out of him.

"Hehe, you two quit it!" Marle mediated with a pillow. Crono picked up the other pillow and made a sport of it, feathers flying everywhere as he buffeted us both, but I dropped out of the contest early, clutching the stitch in my side. "Ahahaha, ow, stop it, damn you. I can't laugh; it hurts."

Mishu trained a sly smirk on our antics. "So, can you still feel it?"

"Huh?" Marle quit pillow-dueling with her boyfriend long enough to pass her a puzzled look. Mishu wiggled her long, pointy fingers at me and Crono. "That funny, tingly feeling, when you touch each other."

"Er...!" I hiccupped while Crono nodded with uncouth enthusiasm. Sheesh, would it kill him to show a little shame? Uh, not that we had anything to be ashamed about! This beast link nonsense was Mishu's fault.

Marle had to ask, openly fascinated, "What's it like?"

"Well...?" We mutually considered it for a second, until Crono snapped his fingers, pointed at his foot and then leaned on his clapped hands.

"It's like when your foot falls asleep?" Hey, Marle was picking it up. There was hope for those two, yet.

Crono beamed at her while I swallowed another unwanted blush. "Yeah, but it's not... It's different."

"They call it the neiphiti's touch," Mishu said. Her head knocked against the window as she eased back into her aloof perch. "Heh, that's the nice word for it, anyway."

Crono flagged Mishu's attention and began to gesticulate eagerly, indicating himself and Marle. _Can you link me and her next??_

"What," Mishu deadpanned, purely lost, while I snapped, "Crono! We're trying to get rid of this thing, not spread it around! Quit being a pig."

He folded his arms and pouted while Marle whined, "Aww, but I wanna know what it's like..."

Speaking of unobtainable answers, I said, "You know guys, there's something we still haven't figured out. Who really built those gates? I mean, before Ramezia came along? Her people came to this planet all those years ago somehow, right?" Another technicality--they came to this planet all those years _ahead_ of us. It's hard to keep the discrepancies of time travel in check in a normal conversation, and we quit correcting each other a long time ago (well, truth be told, Marle and Crono _both_ snapped at me one day and I agreed to stop being pedantic.)

Marle shrugged. "Aliens... Who knows? I'm kind of disappointed that we don't get to see another world."

At this point, the idea of romping haphazardly across the galaxy made me blanch. "I think we've had enough fun almost getting killed on this one."

"Oh com'on!" she goaded. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Mishu piped in with the jaded tone of a long-suffering traveler, "Gate hopping isn't as cool as it sounds. There really aren't that many interesting worlds out there, much less inhabitable ones, and most gates don't have a safety lock, so if you jump to a coordinate that doesn't have a working shrine, you're just stuck there. Try being marooned in a barren, radioactive wasteland or on a hunk of space ice for the rest of your life."

"Eee... nevermind," Marle recanted, but then graced the window with a wistful sigh. "But I'd still like to try it someday..."

That was Marle for you--she never quit dreaming of that next place, just around the bend. Now that the rain had stopped and the score was settled with Heckran and Ramezia, what lied ahead? I supposed Mishu would be going back to her home world. I figured we all would go back to our own lives... but what about me? What was I going home to? An empty house with a couple of fresh graves in the backyard. I hadn't even cleaned the blood up off the floor. I didn't want it--I didn't want that job, I didn't want that life. I wanted to go back to a place in time where my family was waiting for me, but now I'll only ever see them again in the afterlife.

...I was so close, too.

I shouldn't have said it out loud. I don't think I meant to. "...I'm scared to go home."

Great, make it awkward for everyone, why don't I? Marle lent me a pitiful look. "You can stay with me or Crono for a while, if you want..." Crono nodded sympathetically.

"Thanks, but... I think I'll just suck it up and deal." That was about to become my motto for the rest of my life, I feared.

In another act of extrasensory perception (or supernatural hunger), Ayla bolted out of her chair and down the stairs before any of us heard the front door unlatch. Frog and Melchior returned then, and we spent the rest of the evening chatting over a feast of stew and potatoes (more broth than potato, for me. I wasn't fit to stomach much else.) It was dark out by then, and I was more than content to quaff the medicine Melchior offered and go back to bed.

Hours later, I was foggily aware of someone else climbing into bed, and when I caught the scent of dragons and tonic it didn't surprise me (honestly, how long would it take to wash out that heckran funk? Crono needed to learn how to take a real bath.) I didn't have the gall to kick him out, even if I wanted to. He was trying to... well, I think he was being overprotective again. I hadn't missed what Mishu asked him so brashly from atop that cliff, whether he thought that beast link could save me. Maybe it did. So I wasn't going to complain when he wriggled under the covers and settled in close enough to feel his calm breathing and tender warmth at my back.

I was just surprised when he began trailing his fingers down the nape of my neck, gingerly petting. Crono was being _awfully_ affectionate lately, but with that neiphiti's touch or whatever you wanted to call it, I couldn't blame him. It simply felt... cozy, casual--like we've always been this way. It's nice to have someone you can act completely casual around. One of our favorite shared pastimes is sleeping, which sounds like we bore each other so much we can't even stay awake, but that couldn't be further from the truth. It's just that Crono is one of the only people I can completely relax around, so much that we'll behave in ways people only do when they think they're alone--you know, all those private idiosyncrasies that a self-conscious person wouldn't dream of doing in front of others. It's comforting that we know each other's habits intimately and don't mind them, even if sometimes it's awkward and gross--such as the times I looked up from my work to find him drooling in his sleep, or--worse--scratching himself (and I don't mean his foot or something--I mean scratching... you know. Yeah. But he's caught me picking my nose just as many times, so it's only fair.)

But anyway, one of the habits he's most familiar with is my tendency to fall asleep at my work--often _on_ my work, literally succumbing to exhaustion. I can get really involved in my projects and lose a night or two of sleep, okay? Or maybe forget to eat lunch or dinner or somesuch--it's not a big deal. I have been dense enough to bend my glasses out of shape--more than once--thanks to my lousy sleeping habits, but in rare fits of chivalry Crono would confiscate them before I passed out face-first like a dope. One time I was actually coming down with a fever instead of just being careless, and he picked me up and carried me to bed (and then fled for his life before he caught the same bug.)

All the same, Crono's best idea of showing affection was getting me in a headlock and giving me a noogie, which was why the way he had been treating me this past week was so unusual. I should have known something was up the morning he gave me a hug in Magus's castle, but at the time I had dismissed it under extenuating circumstances. I thought that heckran venom had gone to his head, not some spiritual beast link mumbo-jumbo. It wasn't such a big deal when he petted and held me while I was a bird because I was a small, fluffy animal--it was kind of expected (I take it on good authority that I was _very_ soft and cuddly.) But, this...

There was a silence about the room that was strange, just like when I first awoke--no rain, creaky floorboards, crickets or anything. It wasn't spooky or stifling, but rather... unusual, almost quaint. Crono's hand strayed to my shoulder, giving it a firm pat in greeting. _'sup._

"...'sup," I quietly reciprocated. "Where's Marle?" Why did I have to ask? I enjoy digging my own holes, yes thank you.

_Sleeping_, he answered naturally, and I let the matter rest. I didn't want to make this an issue, but I couldn't help thinking that any normal girlfriend might be bothered by her boyfriend stalking off in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with another girl. Maybe. Then again, I supposed the three of us were never meant to be normal--and hey, it's not like anything was happening.

No sooner did I think so when his touch grew more assertive, tucking one arm around me while the other stroked my side. I leaned into it, practically purring like a kitten. Okay, so I didn't have any shame, either. I wondered if we would still be this close after that beast link wore off. ...I wondered if Crono was going to miss it as much as I would.

Then I felt a sigh that was a little too heavy, and it got me reconsidering everything. "What's wrong?" I whispered, trying not to disturb the peace. Crono subtly shook his head. _Nothing_.

"It's something I said, isn't it?" Geez, and I promised myself not to let Marle's earlier observation get to me.

There was another sigh and a gentle squeeze of my shoulder, meant to be consoling but only validating my suspicion. I was already sick of dancing around this. "What is it? Just tell me."

He drummed his fingers on my arm, contemplating things best left unsaid. "You were crying," he murmured. "...'bout your mom."

Oh. Well wasn't that just a nice, hot steaming cup of awkward. "...Sorry," I said, as if I could help myself.

His hand drew down the ridge of my spine, icy-hot through my worn old shirt. I didn't think he would say any more, but then... "We need to talk."

I knew it was serious business because he literally said 'talk.' Crono never needed to talk. "Um...?" I responded, the pinnacle of articulacy.

Crono sat up, ripping away precious, placid heat, and reached towards the foot of the bed. Before I could object, he clamped one hand over my right ankle and rolled up the hem of my pants, revealing a spider web of inkblot veins and leathery purple skin grisly enough to make even me flinch, and I was used to walking with it. Crono cut to the quick, looking at me and making the sign for 'time.' _How long has this been going on?_

Oh. Crap. "It's not as bad as it looks," I said, ineptly pawing at the blanket to cover back up. It was kind of senseless to hide it, now.

He glared. _That's not what I asked._ He wasn't about to ask again. I had forgotten how scary Crono could get when he expected a serious answer.

I was about to reply, 'Around the same time I started hearing crazy black voices,' but I knew that would be the stupidest thing to admit ever, not to mention a one-way ticket to a straight jacket. Or was it? Marle and everyone else saw those rapiers, too, but... I didn't know. I couldn't be sure of anything. I was scared of being labeled a lunatic, because I knew that if the dear denizens of Truce regarded me that well, it wouldn't take a stretch for my friends to believe the same. And I desperately wanted my friends to trust my sanity, despite all the odds. "You remember, um... the fair?" Geez, _the_ fair, like there could be only one. Crono nodded apprehensively. "Well, then... yeah."

He stared back, incredulous, and then comprehended with the softest and most explicit, "_Damnit_," I had ever heard.

"It was just a snake bite. It wasn't anything to get worked up over. I thought it would heal long before now," I rationalized.

_But it didn't._

"No, but..."

I can not thank Mishu enough for showing up right then--through the window, no less, like a damn superhero. What was her and Magus's preoccupation with that window? There was a brief scuffle with the ledge before she found her footing on the hardwood floor. Without an excuse in the world, the bat-lady glanced our way and asked, "Did that faglock come through here? I could swear I saw 'im..."

"Uh...?" I cleared my throat, barely grasping the context of her interruption, much less her lack of manners. "You're looking for Magus?"

"Yeah, he was just..." She spun around, as if he would pop out of the nearest closet at the sound of his name, but then she planted her hand on her hip and clucked, "Tch, screw it. It's not important. Man covers his tracks like he's outrunning the laws of magic or something."

"Uh..." I started again, hoping that witless note would hang in the air long enough to give her the hint to leave. It didn't. Mishu sat back on the windowsill, looking over our bed with underhanded interest. "So. What're you kids doing up?"

"Nothing," I replied more pettishly than necessary, and I could _feel_ Crono bristling at her low-key sneer. "Heh heh, yeah, right."

"What?? Seriously, nothing!" I fought back. I still had some dignity, damnit. "And what about you? You always come barging into people's bedrooms in the middle of the night, waking everyone up?"

"Fuck you, you weren't asleep," she countered, and then as easily as a sea breeze, she changed tack. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you, too."

I let the offensive drop. "Really? About what?"

"About the both of you. I ain't a priest, but I can safely say you guys' beast link is some of the weirdest shit I've ever seen. Never seen a regular human take so fast to the beast talent, either. You sure you're from this planet?"

"Maybe we're just extraordinary," I preened.

"Psh, whatever." She grimaced and rubbed her nose, as if to glance off a punch to the face--with what she was about to say, it might as well have been.

"You know... if I gave a shit about tact or people's feelings or whatever, I'd find a nice way not to tell you this, but fuck it." She looked straight at me. "You're gonna wish you died back there, because it's all downhill from here. The Darkness is going to destroy you and everything you care about. I don't have to be a fuckin' psychic to see that coming; it's what the blight does. I've watched it ruin people--destroy their souls from the inside-out. I've seen it happen to people I know--good people, people who would never hurt anybody. I've seen them turn into rampaging, bloodthirsty killers right before my eyes. That's what was happening to Ramezia, and it'll happen to you too, one day. Nobody can erase the blight."

And then at Crono. "You think you did her a favor back there, saving her life and all, but it'll only make it harder in the end. ...Just hope you never have to do what I did."

On that portentous note, she threaded herself through the open window and took off, vanishing with a clap of wind and without as much as a goodnight.

"She's just a ray of hope and sunshine, isn't she?" I said thinly, trying to outweigh the gravity of the Darkness with levity. It didn't work, because when I checked over my shoulder, Crono was looking as if he just seen a ghost.

I sighed, exasperated with every stupid little thing converging to ruin my life (it's not a conspiracy--it's _not_. Only crazy people think everything's out to get them.) I never wanted to be one of those whiny losers who can't stop talking about how much their life sucks, but it was getting ridiculous, here. This was going to be a stupid question, more-or-less because I knew the answer--that it was just his nature--but I couldn't rest until I heard it from him. "Oh, hell, I don't know... Why _did_ you do it? Why did you go so far to save me?"

Crono leaned back, struck as if the possibility that I might like to know _why_ never even occurred to him. I gave him a minute to think before he answered. _You did the same for me._

Oh. Was he referring to his rescue on Death Peak with the Time Egg? I didn't respond right away, although I wasn't exactly willing to take credit. That was more Marle's doing than anyone else's. She was the only one who never lost hope--who didn't stop believing. If she hadn't been pushing us, I doubt we could've pulled it off. Even at the time, I didn't think it was possible. It defied all the facts and logic I had to rely on. If it was a test of faith, I had failed it hands-down. To bring someone back from the dead... It's an incredible feat. I had to learn the hard way that, when it comes to time travel--and even life itself--nothing's impossible.

Nonetheless, he still didn't answer my question--if anything, he made it worse. What made him so willing to do for me what I was too narrow-minded to do for him? "That was different and you know it," I sniffed, trying not to sound guilty.

He shrugged emphatically, pointed at me and then walked a pair of fingers down his arm. _Why? You helped all along. If you really thought it was impossible, you would've walked away._

I hated him for always knowing what to say--or not say, rather. Now I just felt like an ass. Crono studied my compunctious look, realized I wasn't mollified with that answer, and held up another sign, this time being direct. _Look. Because, you're..._ He paused, his thoughts hung up somewhere I couldn't fathom, and then made a gesture I didn't recognize. I pressed him and he gave a slight, tortured grimace. _Don't make me say it._

"Whaaat? You know I have a _vision impairment_, mister," I caviled, milking it, and then feigned swooning. I could almost see him rolling his eyes as he grudgingly caught me, reached around, took my hands in his and puppet-guided my fingers through the sign for _'because_...'

I started laughing, half delirious. How many tonics did Melchior give me, again? "Crono! That's cheating."

_Because..._ A harried sigh, and then right behind my ear, with a quiet sobriety that surprised me, "You're my little sister, and I love you."

I hadn't expected that. I didn't know what I was expecting, but... well. Crono was my big brother, since always. He tried to beat up the kids at school who picked on me (even though I hit him twice as hard after the fact, in a fit of pride), and sat with me under our favorite tree while I tinkered on inventions, and went on childish 'adventures' in the woods with me. I always wanted to help him out the same way he helped me, even if it was usually futile (I still can't believe I busted up that prison only to find he broke himself out, the dumb lug! Do you have any idea how difficult and nerve-wracking that entire operation was?? They don't build dungeons you can just waltz into. At least I got a cool gun out of it.)

I wanted to say something duly simple and profound, but once again I was in his arms and at a loss. Suddenly I recognized what that silence was, and what made it special: I couldn't hear the voices. At all. My mind was blessedly quiet, and it was just me and Crono. If only I could spend the rest of my life like that, basking in his comfortable silence. We never needed all those fancy words.

He was my big brother, and as long as he was there, I always had a family.

I kissed him on the cheek (he needed a shave, too; he was bristly.) "...Thank you."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I started a new job last month and it's been crazy. This chapter did NOT want to be written, for reasons beyond me. It's all good now, though.

That "urban legend" about beheading applies to Antoine Lavoisier, the French chemist who lived between 1743 and 1794. He allegedly asked friends to count how many times he blinked after his date with _la guillotine_, although as of today the story has no factual basis, even though there are many similar accounts to the same effect.

Nope, this isn't the end, quite. I know what you're thinking: 'Shu, you're a rotten dirty liar whore,' etc. I couldn't fit everything into one last chapter, so I had to split it up (hah, didn't this happen with my last big fic? Must quit jinxing myself.) There's going to be an epilogue, and then I'm done here, I swear!

Next time: To Far Away Worlds.


	26. To Far Away Worlds

**26. To Far Away Worlds**

Apropos of absolutely nothing, I love robots. I don't make a secret of this. I've studied them for the greater part of my teenage life, but I still consider my crowning achievement as a robotic engineer the day I taught Robo to lie. That doesn't sound very special (it sounds kind of horrible, actually) but I always knew I would remember that glitch (if I should call it that) to my dying day.

It had started on a completely unrelated occasion, when Ayla remarked that she'd never told a lie her whole life. Some of us didn't find that easy to swallow (I mean, honestly, _never_? I know Ayla's an upstanding person, but come on-don't tell me she's never filched a pork chop or something and blamed Kino for it.) In the ensuing discussion, Robo revealed that it was against his human interaction protocol to falsify or give misleading information. Then he asked me what the _requisites for lying_ were, and how in the world do I answer that without laying down the template for incriminating myself?

"There's never a good reason to lie," I eventually reasoned. "But sometimes, when the situation calls for discretion, you'll want to... prevaricate."

"Prevaricate?"

"Yeah, you don't always want to tell people everything you know. You don't have to outright lie, but withholding information can sometimes be helpful."

I got a couple of low-key beeps in confirmation and didn't think anything more of it. Later, when we were on our quest to bring Crono back, we had to stop by his house to confiscate a 'clone' doll in his near-exact likeness (Norstein Bekkler is a _freak_.) Since this mission necessitated explaining to Crono's mom why we were taking such a bizarre thing from his room, I led the way and Robo and Frog followed. Ayla and Marle stayed behind-they were acting kind of weepy and unpredictable since... you know, and we didn't want to give Crono's poor mom the wrong impression. And Magus wasn't going anywhere near our so-called "fool's errand" (despite being the one to tip us off to Gaspar in the first place. Sometimes that man _really _makes me wonder.)

So it happened that the woman asked us how her son was faring, and I choked up just long enough for Robo to belt out that Crono was 'fine.' The entire encounter was so awkward and uncomfortable that it didn't even hit me until after we left, and I had to ask on the way back to the Epoch, "Did you just... lie to Crono's mom?"

Robo's response was priceless. "I prevaricated in my response to prevent the undesirable sharing of information."

I marched into his path, stopping our little troupe in its tracks. "You told a lie! You lied! Robots can't lie!"

I swear it's possible for a robot to look and sound contrite. "I am... sorry. Are you angry with me?"

I shook my head and started laughing. "No. No! I'm thrilled!" And I was, so much that I started prancing down the road-_prancing_, like a fairy or something-although not too far ahead to miss Robo directing a query at Frog.

"I do not understand. Is lying not a reprehensible act?"  
"Methinks Miss Lucca means that she prefers thy lies to most other people's truths."  
"Then it is... a compliment?"  
"Aye, that it is."

I was going somewhere with that anecdote, I know it... Oops, I forgot. There isn't even a moral to that story, so you'll just have to take it at face value.

Anyway, I'll never forget our last night at Melchior's house, because that's when I heard the big news. I woke up after a fitful dream to find myself alone in the dark. I sat up in bed and scrubbed my face, as if I could erase the ill humor that had settled in my gut along with the spots in my eyes. I'm not like Ayla; I don't have a sixth sense (or seventh or eighth), but I can tell when something momentous is in the air. I wished I had a sounding board to sort out my troubled thoughts, but Crono had gone... somewhere, and I was feeling a little bereft.

I needed to stop being clingy. _'Why are you moping? He'll be back. Quit being pathetic,'_ I berated myself.

_'But you're so good at it.'_

There was that voice I never wanted to hear again, making my fingernails bite into the sheets and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I sat in bated silence, wishing the malevolent presence away while willing it to speak again.

So it did, frankly and conversational, as if we were old friends-it was getting to feel that way, by now. _'Well? How does it feel?'_

'What's that?' I came back, barely accustomed to this two-way telepathic babble.

_'Being alive.'_

'All right...' I said sedately, trying not to give away my anxiety. I had to figure out what this thing wanted. I could wait all night for answers if I had to.

_'Just all right? You're lucky to be above room temperature right now. Shouldn't you be grateful? We're the ones who saved you, you know.'_

'Yeah, I wondered about that. Just who are you guys, seriously? What is it you want?'

It only held back a moment before replying, simply yet savagely, _'Revenge.'_

'Revenge...?' That word make me feel sick. 'Against who? For what?'

_'The espers. Their reckoning is overdue. Justice will be served in Ragnarok.'_

'Ragnarok?' Sepia-toned doodles flashed before my mind's eye. 'Isn't that supposed to be the so-called end of the world?'

_'So it's called, indeed. Every end is just another beginning.'_

'Yeah, right. And what does saving my life have anything to do with all of that?'

_'Oh... We have our reasons. I'd just enjoy the time you have left, if I were you.'_

'What the heck is that supposed to mean? Why won't you answer any of my questions straight?'

_'And why can't you be happy for your own survival?'_

'Don't turn this back on me! I don't...' know how to keep my mouth shut, even when it is. 'I don't know. I can't stop thinking about what Mishu said.'

_'What, about turning into a fiend?'_ it guessed with relish, and I realized that was the true source of the malaise that was keeping me awake. I just had a dream to that very tune, and it wasn't pleasant (bad memories like crossed wires on a circuit board, too fresh and hot and real, a broken shotgun in a flower pot, a pitchfork in the wall, and she looked dead at me and said it was my fault, for letting the Darkness in. We didn't even own a damn pitchfork.)

'...I don't want to hurt anyone.'

_'But that's what the blight does. Don't worry-by the time it devours your mind and spirit, you'll have long stopped caring.'_

'That's not any comfort, thanks! I don't want to turn into anything! I don't want to lose my mind...'

_'Oh well.'_

I peered around the room, into the corners and-absurdly enough-under the bed. I couldn't find a trace of anyone. '_Oh well_, huh? That's all you have to say? I'm sick of talking to shadows. Don't you have a name, or at least a face? Something I can look at or punch or something?"

_'There's a mirror down the hall.'_

"What? That isn't funny."

"Oh... sorry, is this a bad time?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, looked to the open door and found Marle standing there, one hand on the frame as if to keep her from slipping into the deep end like I had. "Huh? Oh! Um... sorry, no, it's okay." I settled back on the bed and ran a hand through my hair, combing back that sticky feeling of humiliation. "I wasn't talking to... you or anything."

"Okay..." she said meekly, taking my word for it a little too easily as she sat on the bed and bounced back to something cheerful. "So, what's up?"

"Not much..." I answered cautiously, not meaning to sound unfriendly. "Why, what're you doing up?" _'Not talking to the boogieman, I'll bet.'_

"Well..." she drawled, folding her hands in her lap and passing me an archly coy look. She was a touch more happy than the circumstances warranted, considering it was-what, midnight? And everyone was supposed to be asleep, so I asked, too curious for my own good, "What're you smiling about?"

I caught a giddy flinch, one that was biting back a delicious secret. Then she leaned close and whispered, eyes twinkling, "Crono proposed to me."

"P-Proposed?" I reeled, dumbstruck. "To marriage?" _'No, to go out for ice cream. Yes for marriage, you twit.'_

She was completely serious, too-I could tell by the way she wore her mirth, bright and rosy on her cheeks. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Oh, yeah, it's..." I swallowed. "Wonderful. Excuse me for not leaping for joy-shot with an arrow, and all..." I was trying to sound more casual than sarcastic-I was just in shock, really. Fortunately, she didn't take it the wrong way.

"Hehe, oh! I know. You're so funny." She shrugged, merrily apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy, I had to tell someone."

I forced a light tone-_for crap's sake, sound happy for her_. "Yeah... um, yeah! Wow. I know, that's amazing. Congrats."

Marle wrapped me in a squeaky hug. "Hee, thank you! So many exciting things have been happening lately, it's almost too much to believe."

"I know what you mean," I muttered, and she pulled away with an amicable laugh.

"Right. So I guess we should try to go back to sleep, huh? Big day tomorrow, and all..."

"Yeah, I guess..." Tomorrow meant goodbye for most of us. The last message Gritchen left was that the Fardons intended to dismantle the rest of the gate shrines. We were given a few days to recuperate and head back to our respective times, but that meant we had to head for the gate in Truce Canyon as soon as possible.

"Don't forget, we're leaving first thing in the morning, okay?" Marle had to remind me.

"I didn't forget..." I said peevishly as she got up to leave.

"Hehe, all right. Good night." Then with a swish of her ponytail she was gone, a slip of strawberry-blonde daylight back into the disquieting dark.

"Night..." I returned, too late to an empty room.

_'So... which is worse: being useless or being a third wheel?'_

Not completely empty. I sighed, finally getting used to that hollow ache in the bottom of my chest. It's said that after a definite period of starvation, the stomach will adjust to the lack of food and you'll stop feeling hungry. Sometimes, I like to imagine the heart works the same way.

'...Same difference.'

After breakfast, we thanked Melchior for his hospitality and then hit the road. The trail was still pretty soggy when our group of six set out for Medina, where a newly constructed ferry would take us to Truce. As rejuvenating as it was to walk outdoors under a clear sky, the excessive mud didn't make it worthwhile, and with the sun out, summer was in full force. "Ugh, I hate when it's muggy like this," Marle complained for the first time in ages, about anything-it was simply _that bad_.

There's nothing else to note about the trip, except when we disembarked in Truce that evening, guess who met us on the pier?

"H-Hey Marle!" Crono's stupid friends, right where we left them. Charlie waved us over to the dumpster outside Rick's Cafe, where he was parked on the tetanus-ridden lid alongside Gary, Haru and Liquel.

Marle buoyantly skipped over to greet them. "Hey guys! How's business?"

"Not too bad," Haru reported around a lazy drag on a cigarette. "Slowed down since the rain let up."

"Everybody back to work, real jobs and shit, word," Liquel explained.

Gary laid a cynical eye on the ostensible leader of our group, who was flanked by Ayla and Marle, with Mishu walking just ahead. "Damn Crono, you fuckin' pimp. How's you always surrounded by these fine-ass women?"

Crono shrugged, rightfully smug, until Ayla clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh. "Hah! Pimp? That funny, Ayla like." Did Ayla even know what that meant? I nearly choked on a laugh at the disturbed look Crono passed back. _Please don't start calling me that._

Haru noticed me and sneered, "Yeah, just too bad Booger's here-depreciates the property value by like twenty percent."

"Ah, get bent," I eloquently retorted. And to think, out of the bunch I almost didn't hate Haru; he's the brains of their outfit.

"Hey hey Booger, that's what your girlfriend said, am I right?" Gary crowed, garnering a low-five from Liquel.

That's when Frog stepped up, slung an arm over my shoulder and said with such a jovial swagger I could have died on the spot, "These gentlemen harassing you, my lady?" I was too astonished to play into the ruse; I could only savor the slack-jawed reception we were getting from the dumpster.

Charlie said something barely audible that Gary elected to broadcast. "Yeah, and who the hell're you?"

Crono signaled the end of our friendly chat by waving at the gang as he walked away. "Aye, we must be off. Farewell, lads," Frog said with a shrewd grin as he took my arm and dragged me off, as well.

Once we were out of earshot, Marle applauded us with a titter. "Hehe, you guys! That was great." Crono cocked a bemused grin at Frog and then me before shaking his head, refraining from comment. What was that about?

Oh, I didn't even care-I held fast to my savior's arm. "You are my damn hero. I'll repay you, anything. You sure you want to go back to the Middle Ages? You wouldn't be for sale, would you?"

Crono rolled his eyes. _You don't have any money._

"Shut up, Crono," I snapped, never minding the irony.

"I didn't appreciate their manners, is all," was all Frog had to say for himself, and then he winked as he turned me loose and strolled ahead. Good holy hell, have I mentioned that Frog is-okay, okay! I promised I wouldn't say it again. (Still, _gawd_. So far out of my league. I could die.)

The eerie, sentient twang of the Masamune broke into our revelry. _"Pimp! What a misnomer."_

_"Yeah,"_ Mune's plucky voice joined his brother's. _"The only whore here is the neiphiti."_

Mishu whirled towards Frog, who was wearing the source of the insult on his back (Frog made sure to look appropriately aghast and unaffiliated.) "What the-hey, that's _exotic mage_, you fuckstick."

_"You use _magic_ to _blow guys_ for _money_. Which part of that job description doesn't make you a whore?"_ Mune riposted.

Marle baulked at that information, turning a stunned look to Mishu. "Wait, you what?" Crono looked thoughtfully at the spirit mage before passing me the sign for money and a crooked grin. _Ask her how much she charges._ I casually slugged him in the arm.

Marle seemed to think the exchange was funny, even if she missed the 'joke.' "What? What did he say?"

"He wanted to ask-"

Crono made a frantic 'no no no' gesture, and I snared his wrist. "Oh, _oh_, now you don't want everyone to hear? I see how it is."

I knew what that retaliatory gleam in his eye meant, and I let Crono go, dancing out of reach of an incoming noogie. "Okay, okay, I give!"

Ayla, who had been watching the whole thing with her nose crinkled in puzzlement, all of a sudden remarked, "Magic blow guys? That make much money? Ayla not think trade good. In Ioka, get any time for free."

Crono doubled over and Marle started laughing so hard that none of us could remember what we were saying anymore, and that was how we spent the rest of our trek to the canyon.

It's a good thing we got that hysteria out of our systems, because I can't think of anything more sobering than setting foot in that underground shrine where our adventure officially began. Not even the oppressive stone enclosure and tranquil blue light could wash out the sense of awe one gets from standing before a monument to temporal entropy-a lovingly-crafted reminder that nothing in this universe always works the way it's damn well supposed to. All the same, a time gate is a marvelous anomaly, no matter how and where it's presented.

The only surprise left was the reception party, and we were startled by their presence more than anything. "Pillie!" Marle exclaimed as she bent on one knee to pass the child a friendly wave. Pillea shuffled around Gritchen's legs and refused to advance, although she returned the gesture with a timid smile.

"Hey there, remember us? How are you?" Marle pressed a nice conversation.

The little girl sniffled. "Mommy and Levi are gone..."

Levi? Ohh... _oh_. Gritchen mentioned she was a summoner, like her mother. So yeah, we just killed her pet and made her an orphan, thanks for asking, Marle. I think the princess honestly forgot, judging by the mortified tinge to her complexion. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Pillie..."

"Levi will be back. They always come back," Mishu flatly assured her, and I almost believed it, myself.

Frog politely bowed at the Fardon pair. "It's good to see you again, Gritchen, Pillie."

"I am glad you all made it," Gritchen said in kind. Pillie looked about and plaintively asked, "Where's the fire birdy?"

"Oh, uh... she's back in her cage. Resting," I supplied. Oh yeah, smooth.

Then a rock hitherto unnoticed stirred behind them, scaring the rest of the daylights out of us. Frog reflexively reached over his shoulder, but after a second glance he let his sword rest. "Magus?" I didn't shriek (Marle was the one who shrieked. I just, uh, yelled in a not-too-girly manner. He snuck up on us, okay?)

The wizard shucked off his cloak of shadows and tersely accosted us. "It's about time. You people take forever. It's a miracle you get anything done."

"What were you waiting on us for?" I had to ask.

I think he-flinched? No, Magus wouldn't flinch if a hornet flew straight into his eye, but there was definitely a browbeaten shade to his facade when he said, "I need that other book, the one with the gate coordinates."

"Oh _really_?" Well what would you know? Here was _the_ Magus, actually _admitting_ that he _needed_ us for something. The wayward urge to rub it in came over me. I dug the notebook in question out of my travel pack and flashed it at him the same way he did the _T'torlan_ a few nights before. "Well if you're such a smarty-pants, why didn't you just go back and take this from me rather than wait for us to bring it here?"

"I was being 'courteous'," he uttered sardonically, and even Ayla guffawed at that.

"Hah! You funny man. Make Ayla wet pants, laugh so hard."

"Yeah, you're a regular comedian, Magus," I concurred.

Since I wasn't about to deliver it (what do I look like, a waitress?) he grudgingly crossed the room and plucked the notebook from my hand. I let it go without a fight, finding his perturbed reaction worth the expense. "I liked you better when you were a bird."

"Shame you couldn't do us the same favor," I shot back. He would've made an outstanding goat, too.

Gritchen tilted a baffled look at the warlock as he stepped onto the shrine's dais and started thumbing through my notes. "You could have asked me. I would have gladly disclosed the proper coordinates."

"Shut up," Magus muttered, leaving the impression that he either really didn't trust Gritchen, or had actually been waiting in this cave for another reason. Ultimately, it didn't matter; we could ask all day, but we'd never know.

"So..." Frog opted for a change of subject. "Since we're all here, I suppose this is it."

"So soon?" Marle bemoaned, and Crono answered with a crestfallen nod.

Gritchen cleared his throat with a weird, slurping rattle that sounded like drawing a fish through a vacuum hose. "There is only a slight matter of business left beforehand. You see, Heckran's clan forfeited a precious artefact we believe to be that Rainbow Shell you were missing."

Marle gasped. "You found it?"

"Indeed, if I may..." Gritchen reached into his cloak pocket, withdrew a shard of luxurious mother-of-pearl and presented it to us. "Here."

"Huh?" Marle gaped at the palm-sized offering. "That's it? That can't be it! The Rainbow Shell was huge!"

"I am sorry. This was all we found," Gritchen explained.

"Ohh, thank you anyway..." Marle lamented as she took the enchanted scrap.

"And red rock?" Ayla tried, yet I shook my head. "I'm sure it got used up to restore the Mammon Machine..."

"Better to let a dead dog lie, then," Frog gave that maxim an odd twist.

"There is also the Sun Stone, which we've kept in our laboratory..." Gritchen left the notion hanging in the air.

Marle held a finger to her chin and posited, "Well, it was at Lucca's house before..."

So it was my call? Great. "I say you guys keep it. It's brought me enough bad luck."

Between half a dozen rueful looks, I picked up a wry smirk from Crono. _I thought you didn't believe in luck._ Yeah, well, I didn't believe in a lot of things before I started traveling with these people, like magic, and ghosts. And time travel.

Gritchen accepted the suggestion with a straightforward nod. "As you wish. We shall keep it in safe study." That's all I wanted to hear. "That would conclude our business, then. My teams have cleared all our posts in the past, as well as the laboratory, and the demolition is nearly complete. We've left the shrines in our era and this one intact, although once we're done here, this cave will promptly be collapsed."

Frog bared a twinge of concern. "What's going to happen when we try to go back to our times, then?"

"The gate should drop you where the shrine used to be," I filled him in. "Without anything to sustain it, it'll then seal up. It should look like it was never there." Gritchen nodded in accord.

In that case, all that was left were goodbyes. Gritchen volunteered to configure the rings to the Mystic Mountain gate while Ayla passed around her self-patented 'kilwala hugs.' (Ow, my poor ribs.) "Thanks so much for all your help, Ayla!" Marle chirped, and she won an extra-friendly tug on her ponytail.

"Always help friends, no problem! Had great time, see Crono again, and Crono friends! Everyone always with Ayla, no matter what." She beat her breast for emphasis. "Never forget."

"We'll never forget you too, Miss Ayla," Frog assured as he and I set to work on the hidden switches. A little magic here, and there... click-click, _click_. A deluge of brilliant sapphire light diluted the threads of red. Ayla then mounted the gate's platform, blew us a jaunty kiss and leapt out of sight.

"And there she goes..." I remarked, never failing to be amazed by the way Ayla breezes through life.

Next, Frog approached our most alien companion and openly related, "Ah, Miss Mishu... You haven't been our most trustworthy ally, but I have to thank you, for what you've done for me."

She shrugged off the candid words, completely unbothered. "Whatever. It was a freak accident."

Frog looked like he could've laughed, yet retained his knightly composure. "A serendipitous one, nonetheless. I'm in your debt." As if to complement that thought, he shouldered gruffly past Magus on his way to the gate. "Thanks for nothing."

"Hrmph. Doggie." Magus managed to turn that term of endearment into a derogatory one. He's a man of many talents and abysmally few friends.

Again Gritchen set the dial while Frog and I circled the pillars. Click, click... "Hey, Frog..." I tried to hold him, for even just a second longer, but I was suddenly at a loss of what to say. It's not like either of us needed closure here, but... No matter how much you have to, it's hard to let a good friend go.

He started to cut me off anyway, glancing back with a subdued, "Ah, you needn't-"

"'Long farewells ne'er were necessary,' right?" I beat him to it.

He laughed one short, sad little note, and then turned around to face us. "Actually... I was going to say, it's all right to call me Glenn."

I blinked, astonished by his change of heart-although I had to admire his timing. "Really? You're going to be okay with that?"

His smile was an open book, frayed on the edges and creased where the pages should run smooth, but every single word was genuine. "...I think I will."

Marle couldn't wait to try the name out, and she threw an exuberant hug at him. "Good luck, Glenn! We're going to miss you!"

He stumbled to catch her, and then returned the warm embrace. "Ahaha, I'm going to miss you all, too. Oh..." Glenn wiped the corners of his eyes and then stood back, the gate breathing a supernatural gust into the cavern as he touched the last switch.

I wished I could always remember the way he looked then-tall and proud, strong and hesitant, too old and too young, wearing the world's finest sword over ill-fitting clothes, and long wild hair as green as spring grass snagged in the tatters of his scorched olive cape-but memories are ephemeral things, worse than fading photographs. He traded Crono's wave word-for-word and then walked through the portal. _Farewell_.

"Hrmph." Magus threw my notebook away-literally, lobbed it across the room. I was lucky to catch it. What a jackass. "I'm done here."

It was Marle's turn to be nosy. "You're going back to your old time, then?"

She was summarily ignored. Magus plodded up the steps and began to manipulate the gate's controls himself, never minding Gritchen's assistance. Marle must have signed a suicide pact for breakfast, because she ran up after him and tugged his cloak. "Um, hey!"

Even I felt a draught from the icy look he dealt her, and I was on the other side of the shrine. That ice princess wouldn't be daunted by a cold shoulder, though. She stood straight up to him and said, "Listen, about that stuff you saying back there, with the Mammon Machine and all..." Wait, stuff to the who? Back where? Was I missing something?

She hesitated, cupping a hand over her heart-and then, in the most incredible feat I had seen all week, she unfastened the gold chain around her neck and held it out for Magus. "This pendant... It was hers, right? Maybe it will help you."

_What_. Why? How? Where did this insane gesture come from? Even Magus was thunderstruck-I could tell by the way his expression locked up between 'pissy' and 'confused.' At last his voice leaked out, like sand through a sieve, "I don't-"

"Care!" Marle dropped the pendant, forcing him to catch it in a gut-reflex. She then folded her hands behind her back and bounced on her toes, satisfied with the exchange. "I want you to have it. I know you'll keep it safe."

"Princess..." was all he said, quiet and broken, as if he forgot himself for just that moment. Then he hit the last switch and stormed from the room.

"Holy _crap_," was my sentiment, after all was said and gone. Crono skipped to Marle's side, stringing up his bewilderment like a mad puppeteer. _Why did you do that?_

Marle looked after the closed gate with a solemn mien that was so painfully familiar I couldn't quite place it. "It just seemed like... the right thing to do." She looked back at me. "The same reason you gave your Gate Key to Jerad, right?"

Oh gawd, what? "N-No, it's not the same at all! I can always build another Gate Key. Wasn't that pendant really precious to you? I thought it was a royal heirloom," I countered before my face turned conspicuously red.

She shrugged, completely resilient to the loss of a one-of-a-kind keepsake. "Sure, but he lives in the past, right? It'll come back eventually!"

I gawped at her _ex post facto_ reasoning. "What-that's-it doesn't work like..." I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and stifled a headache with a sigh. "Oh, fuck it. Why not?"

She could have upbraided me for that pithy little remark, but Marle didn't seem as much scandalized as amused. "Lucca! When did you start using language like that?"

"I guess I got it from Mishu," I drolly answered. "We all know she's such a wonderful influence."

"I can still hear you cocksuckers," the neiphiti attested from the foot of the shrine, where she had already set three of the four switches. Gritchen gave a disapproving grunt as he covered his charge's tiny, pointy ears with his hands. Pillie looked comically disoriented.

Mishu went ahead, hopping up to the gate rings and glancing them over before pulling back with a bemused and esoteric, "Huh. That rat bastard."

"Hey Mishu..." I began, before I lost the nerve to ask. "What did you mean back there, when you said you hoped we'd never have to do what you did?"

She shrank from the question, wings bunching into a knot as she turned her back. "It doesn't matter. I was just talking shit."

I edged in, persisting, "About the blight. You have it too, don't you? What's going to happen to you, then?"

"I'm just going to... keep going." There was a deliberative curl to her tail that was matched with a mischievous look when she suddenly turned back and asked, "Say, you want to come with?"

I recoiled. "Say what?"

She extended her hand, earnest in her bearings despite the frivolous grin. "Come with me. I'm looking for a cure."

"You said you're looking for the Phoenix..." I quibbled, feeling that precious nerve I had just a moment ago slip away.

"Same difference. The Phoenix is the key to wiping out the Darkness."

At that point Marle butted in, "Oh, no fair! I want to go adventuring on other worlds, too!"

Mishu shrugged. "Tch, I won't stop you, Princess. You can come, too."

I had to make sure Marle understood, "But it's a one-way trip-you realize that, right? The Fardons are going to blow up these gates right after this."

"That is a certainty," Gritchen affirmed. "You must choose wisely before departing here."

Just to drive the point home, I said, "Yeah Marle, are you sure you want to leave this era behind? I mean, your dad and... you know."

"Oh, for...!" It looked like she was about to tell the king of Guardia where to stick it, but then she glanced back at Crono and her demeanor softened. "I guess you're right. Daddy needs me here, and so does our kingdom." She hung her head, dispirited but resigned to the truth. "I really wanted to see another world, is all..."

You know, it's taken the past few days to realize just how much that rebellious princess has truly matured. Yet then she looked up and said, so frank and tearful it was almost strange, "But Lucca, you should go."

Once again, the need to be flippant in the face of such a life-altering decision compelled me to crack a grin. "What, you want to get rid of me that badly?"

In a very bold yet very typical show of compassion from Marle, she rushed forward and clasped my hands, entreating, "No, I don't mean that at all! You're my best friend and I'd miss you forever, but seriously, if what Mishu says is true, it could really help you."

Mishu pitched in, "I'm not lying. You can stay here and rot, or you can come with me and at least die looking for something to do about it. It's up to you."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Why did these things always have to happen so damn _fast_? "Marle..."

I had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea, going to the future and all. I already confessed in front of everyone that I was scared to go back home. If I went ahead with Mishu, I would be helping her fight this so-called Darkness. Plus, I would have friends there: Jerad, the other guys in Free Bandwidth, and... Robo, maybe-if his memory of us hadn't been wiped in this Lavos-free timeline. I wanted to believe with all my heart that he would remember me, but everything in our adventures was made of paradox and uncertainty.

Then I remembered something very very critical-not just to Robo, but to everything that's happened here. "The Prometheus Circuit..."

Marle furrowed her brow. "Huh?"

Not to make myself sound too important (even if my work is scientifically groundbreaking!) but if what Jerad said was (is? will be?) true, I will eventually invent a circuit board that's integral to nearly every AI in that future, including the R-Series. It's always a paradox, isn't it? At some points the chains of history seem to hold just fine, despite our intervention, while at others it can be so fragile... removing even one link can spell disaster. I'd rather create a future where Robo doesn't remember us than one where he doesn't exist at all. I can't tell if that's selfish, but for history's sake, it was the safest course.

I fervently shook my head, hoping I made some sense when I said, "No, I just realized why I can't go. There's things I still have to do here. Sorry."

And to whom was I apologizing, exactly? Mishu merely shrugged. "Eh. Alright. See you in the next life, then." She hit the last switch and stepped out through the gate, as unruffled as ever.

"Lucca, are you sure...?" Marle asked in her wake. She didn't quite get it.

I glumly sighed. "I'm sure. You remember all that Doctor LEA stuff Jerad told us, right? If there's anything left out that keeps Free Bandwidth from modifying that gate for Ramezia, it would be my fault, and there's no telling the ramifications that would have on our timeline. I'd rather not screw up history any more than we already have." Crono patted me on the shoulder, wholly supportive, even if he didn't understand or agree. _It's cool._

Gritchen bowed respectfully at that assessment. "That is perhaps most wise. It has been an honor meeting all of you."

Marle approached him. "You're going already?"

He nodded primly. "There is no need for delay. As your friend said, it is best not to linger and trifle with time. I wish you all well." He nudged the child at his side. "Say goodbye, Pillea."

We got a demure little, "Bye bye..." that was so cute I couldn't help smiling. We waved farewell to our aquatic friends and then made sure the gate closed soundly after them before leaving the cave behind.

And then it was just the three of us again. "Huh, so that's it..." Marle mused on our way back into town.

"We'll have to go back tomorrow and make sure the Fardons finished the job," I supposed. If they hadn't, we'd have to go through and investigate, naturally-and if all else fails, I always know how to cook up some tasty explosives. "But for now, I guess we all go home."

Crono offered an empathetic look towards the grim chores that lied ahead. _You need some help?_

"No..." I gently turned him down. "It's all right. You really need to check in with your mom, before she tries to feed Cyrus fish food or something."

Marle snickered. "Hehe, remember the time she cooked that casserole for us with cat food in it?" Crono stuck his finger in his mouth, pretending to gag.

"Ugh, yeah, count me out on that one," I said, and then a more pertinent thought hit me. "And hey, don't you want to tell her the good news?"

The transition from _What news?_ to _Ohhh, crap, you told her?_ on Crono's face was hilarious. Marle wrapped herself around his elbow and sweetly implored, "Oh, don't be mad! I know it was supposed to be a surprise but I just had to tell _someone_, you know? It's okay, it's just Lucca."

Oh yeah, it was just me. Make me feel special. "Yeah jerkface, way to leave me out of the loop," I teased him.

Crono smirked, tucked his girlfriend under one arm (sorry, _fiancé_ now, gawd) and drew me in with the other, murmuring warm and close enough to make me shiver, "Wellll, since it's only Lucca, I guess it's all right."

"If you say so, _pimp daddy_," I got my shot in, and Crono released me as Marle burst into another fit of laughter. He was incredibly lucky to have a girl like that, who knew how to laugh off anything.

At that the couple let me go my own way, with the promise to meet at Crono's house in the morning. I just needed some time alone, to clear my head. It always helped to go hiking, even if the trail was as worn and familiar as the one to my house. The stars were trickling through the sinking lavender firmament by the time I crossed the bridge to my family's solitary island. The sight was enough to make me pause, brimming with nostalgia. I remembered the last night of the Millennial Fair, full of beauty and hope that shone off every lamp and cobblestone, and then those fond farewells, and then the happy walk back to my house, my parents laughing by my side.

I had to... I have to figure out something. I have a lot of work to do, and my time may be short. If I gained anything from this whole mess, I am now more determined than ever to make something out of my life (besides saving the world, which we all achieved already. You know, been there, done that.) I want the future to be just as we left it, with humanity advancing towards something better and brighter every day-the Fardons, too. The future isn't just Marle's responsibility, after all; it's everyone's, and I want to do my part. I guess that's why I really stayed behind, after all.

As for the Darkness... I'm not always the voice of optimism, but I think it'll work out, I really do. I'm not scared of _Ragnarok_-if a bunch of clueless kids with a time machine can beat the alien manifestation of the apocalypse, then anything is possible. I hope Mishu finds that Phoenix she's looking for.

The evening breeze died away, and crickets took up the refrain. I looked down at my feet, where the grass and gravel path intertwined, tall and spindly enough to need mowing again. I was standing right where that snake bit me, I remembered as well.

I could almost see it, too-little beady eyes, red and blue, peering out of the corner of reality, just waiting to strike.

_'It's going to get very interesting from now on.'_

"Oh yeah?" I said freely, not caring if the whole world heard me. Let them jump out and bite. Let me see the face of the blight, of true darkness, as if I've never seen worse. There's a wise old master who used to train Crono in swordsmanship, and he once said that a cricket chirping in the darkness doesn't fear a thing, even if it only lives for a day. I didn't get it-were we supposed to be any better or worse than insects?

If I'm going to die tomorrow, I want to be chirping loud and clear, so everyone knows I'm not afraid of the dark. "How so?"

_'It's going to be just you... and us.'_

* * *

A/N: So it ends. This has been far from my best work, and I made some hella mistakes on the way, but I had my own brand of fun with it, not to mention finally laying down the foundations for the rest of this fanficverse-ideas I have been tinkering with since 2000. Feels good to get all that off my creative chest. I know that for whatever this fic's flaws, I did a hell of a lot better than the previous two drafts, simply by virtue of finishing it.

Thanks to everyone for reading, especially those who left comments and crits. Thanks to CWolf2, Kasienda and Charlett for all the support, and special thanks to Zephira and maggiekarp for the weird and crazy chats (and #icybrian, for spurring on that delightful, uh... buggery discussion.) I needed all the help, and it was really appreciated!

All told, it was worth it.

If there's interest, I'll post a follow-up story to show what exactly becomes of Lucca, and Glenn's happy ending, as well. Otherwise, I really need to move on to the next part of The Phoenix Chronicles, "Fleeting Dragons," which shows where Magus and Mishu go from here, and the ultimate fate of the _Ellichronrisen_. It won't necessarily be in fanfic format, so if anyone would like to keep following the Phoenix's story, best bet is to watch my DeviantArt account (see my profile.)

Until next time!

~the neiphiti dragon


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